


The Way We Were

by patchwork_panda



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: M/M, Universe Alteration, kou empire au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-02-14 22:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2205549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchwork_panda/pseuds/patchwork_panda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”<br/>― Kiersten White, The Chaos of Stars</p><p>A Sinja story set in the alternate universe where Judal was raised to be Sinbad's Magi/High Priest, Aladdin is the Kou Empire's Magi/Oracle and Ja'far is the Kou Empire's Parliamentary Minister.<br/>Wanting to establish friendly ties between their countries, Ren Kouen sends Aladdin and Ja'far on a diplomatic mission to meet with Sinbad and Judal. However, despite being involved with other people, Sinbad and Ja'far begin to fall in love. Slowly, the wheels of Fate begin to turn and everything changes...</p><p>Story is named for the song "The Way We Were" by Miryo of Brown-Eyed Girls feat. Sunny of SNSD.<br/>Reference images:<br/>http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=manga&illust_id=42006851<br/>http://mari-m-rose.tumblr.com/post/99577000819/i-havent-done-anything-cleaner-than-this-lately</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All characters have the same names. However, names of the nations in the story are changed.  
> Sindria = Mehran, due to the Sindh Valley in our world where Ohtaka got the name "Sindria" also being called "Mehran Valley" by locals. Reference: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sindh  
> Kou = Huang because that is how the right half of the character for "Kou" is read in Mandarin Chinese. That particular character "huang" refers to emperors and royalty.
> 
> Also, author apologizes for being slow on updating the other two multi-chapter fics she is writing. Rest assured, she is still working on them! OTL

Far away, in a crumbling golden library, a boy with a long blue braid let out a heaving sob.

“It’s too sad!” he exclaimed, weeping bitterly, the tears falling swiftly between his tiny fingers. “Things like that shouldn’t have to happen. Don’t you think??”

The enormous blue man before him merely sat there serenely, hunched over with his mop of blue hair skimming the ceiling, lightly brushing the brightly colored tiles and sending a shower of dust down below as he moved. His eyes were hidden, but he was watching the crying boy with an eerie calm. Piles of books littered the floor around them, their pages dog-eared and torn as they lay still and silent where the boy had thrown them in his fit of horror. Above them, the black empty slots in the shelves stared down on them like so many dead, accusing eyes, as if daring the boy to rip more of them into being the way he had before. But he didn't move and the sound of his cries continued to echo quietly around the room.

“Ugo... is there anything I can do to prevent that? Anything at all?” the boy asked, hiccuping into his hands.

“It was as Solomon willed, Aladdin. You cannot change the past. But what I can offer you now after telling you this long story... is a single wish.”

“A wish...?”

Aladdin sucked in a breath, his heart pounding as he collected his thoughts. A single wish.

“You said the past cannot be changed,” he said slowly, “but doesn't the future have yet to be written?”

“I suppose that's true... Have you thought of something you’d like to wish for?”

“I have."

Wiping the tears from his reddened face, Aladdin sat up and fixed Ugo with a determined look.

"We're friends, right Ugo?"

When the Djinn nodded in affirmation, the blue-haired boy reached up with an open palm, offering it to Ugo. 

"Let's create a world in which everyone can be happy. That is my wish!”

The giant smiled.

_So you have wished it, so it shall be... O Magi._

***

“Big brother! Big brother!”

He hadn’t even had time to turn around when the small bundle of blue robes threw itself headlong at him, slamming into the small of his back. Caught off guard, he fell to the ground, knocking the wind out of him and allowing the scrolls that had just been safe in his arms to roll every which way as they hit the tiles beneath them. His elbows bruised and his head spinning, he inclined his head to peer through watering eyes at the young boy in blue, who, largely unaffected by the fall, was still attached to his midsection, his small arms still tightly locked around his waist. Ah, so that was why he still couldn’t breathe; the twelve-year old was cutting off his oxygen supply.

“My Oracle, could you please let go? I’m afraid I won’t be able to speak with you if I cannot breathe.”

The boy’s bright blue eyes widened and he gave a small start.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!”

He released his grip immediately and scurried back, an apologetic expression on his cherub-like face as the man he’d tackled picked himself up and unhurriedly dusted off his robes. Gathering scrolls as he scanned the floor with his soft gray eyes, he finally located his hat and replaced it on his head, smoothing down his white bangs as he did so.

“That’s okay. Did you want to talk to me about something, young one?”

The boy giggled brightly.

“I told you before, big brother! Call me ‘Aladdin!’”

A gentle smile tugged at his lips as he regarded the child magician before him.

“Alright, Aladdin. And as I told you before, calling me ‘Ja’far’ is just fine. Now, what is it you wanted to show me?”

He had the grace to hide his chuckle behind a long sleeve; the boy was clearly bursting at the seams with excitement—almost literally, in fact.

“Look Ja’far, look!”

Aladdin grinned ecstatically and whirled around in a complete circle, a blur of fantastic embroidery and long cobalt sleeves that flew out past his fingertips. 

“They gave me new ceremonial robes for the trip!” he announced breathlessly.

And indeed they had. The Empire had spared no expense in preparing their young Magi for the meeting with the Mehran Kingdom. Ja’far could see that he was wrapped in the finest silk their expansive kingdom had to offer. For his ensemble, the tailors had chosen pale fabric the color of a cloudless summer sky, with a soft white ruffled lining that cascaded from his sleeves past his fingertips; it gave the impression that the boy had brought the sky inside with him when he entered the palace. And that collar trimmed with black and gold to match his tall hat was a nice touch. Yes, the boy was clothed in robes fit for a king. Secretly, Ja’far suspected this was Kouen’s doing. The robes didn’t show enough skin for Kouha’s finicky taste but they were more than impressive enough to show off to the King of Mehran who Aladdin would be meeting with in a few weeks’ time.

“I think they need to be tailored.”

“Do you?”

At once, the corners of Aladdin’s mouth dropped down. Ja’far seldom uttered anything untrue. Deflating significantly, the Magi morosely lifted an arm and shook out the decorated sleeve.

“Princess Kougyoku told me I’d grow into them.”

Ja’far wouldn’t be surprised if the young woman had lied just so she could tag along on a training session with her eldest brother. He knew her well. The young princess would much rather be out in the courtyard practicing her swordplay than indoors working on embroidery. He sighed and shook his head amusedly. He should expect no less from the Fifth General.

“Well, why don’t we see what Princess Hakuei thinks?” the white-haired man asked gently. “I believe she’s in her room having tea with Prince Hakuryuu.”  
At the prospect of meeting with the First Princess, Aladdin brightened up considerably. Although she, like Kougyoku, was a General, she was much older and had more of the motherly air that Ja’far suspected Aladdin needed right now. He tried to do what he could, but there was only so much that either of them could do for the poor boy.

“She’s back?” Aladdin exclaimed, his eyes shining at the prospect of seeing his old friend again.

“Yes and I’m sure she and Prince Hakuryuu would be happy to see you again.”

“Uwah!! Then I’m going right now. Bye Ja’far!”

He flew off down the hallway, the extended lapels of his robes trailing in his wake like streamers as he ran. It warmed his heart to see Aladdin doing so much better now than when they’d found him all those years ago. He could hardly believe that the time had flown by so quickly. Smiling amusedly, Ja’far turned and continued down the hallway to his intended destination: The First Prince’s office.

The massive wall of wood loomed up at him as he approached. A pair of intricately carved dragons lay waiting for him, crouched upon the polished oaken surface, snarling at intruders and dignitaries alike, their shining claws bared in defense of the master who sat quietly at his desk behind the doors. But he paid them no mind. Raising his fist to the wood, Ja’far gave a solid knock.

“Enter.”

As he placed his hand on a bronze doorknob, the gleam in the dragons’ eyes dimmed and the creatures themselves seemed to diminish as the door gave way, letting Ja’far into the sanctum, where a broad-shouldered man clothed in red and black was perusing a large map on his desk. At the sound of Ja’far’s footsteps, he looked up and stood.

“Ja’far. This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” Ja’far greeted him, bowing respectfully. “While I appreciate the sentiment, I’d hardly call it a surprise when I’ve come specifically at your request.”

“But you’re here much earlier than expected.”

“Did you think I’d keep you waiting when there is work to be done?”

A low chuckle came from the redhead before him.

“No, I suppose not.”

“But I am curious,” Ja’far said quietly, carefully setting the scrolls on the desk between them. “Why request so much information about Mehran? I thought this was going to be a diplomatic mission.”

“It is,” the prince replied, “But I don’t think I should send you in completely unprepared. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find something interesting to report back to me, particularly on information regarding their Magi...”

At his words, Ja’far started a little.

“Me? You wish for me to accompany Aladdin to Mehran?”

“Of course. If the Huang Empire is going to be allies with the Kingdom of Mehran, I’d like to send someone who remembers to keep our nation’s best interests rather than his own selfish goals in mind.”

Kouen was obviously talking about Ka Koubun. At the mention of the disgraced counselor, the white-haired man scowled. It was Ja’far who had discovered the scoundrel’s plans involving Princess Kougyoku and promptly dismissed him from the palace. However, somewhere in his heart, the fact that he hadn’t been allowed to mete out a more fitting punishment for the crime of plotting against the royal family frustrated him... and more than anything, that following thought terrified him. True, the royal family of Huang had been responsible for his magnificent education and formal upbringing, but was that really a good enough reason to feel this kind of unwavering loyalty...? He shook himself mentally and showed his prince a calm expression.

“Would you expect anything less of your Parliamentary Minister?” he asked, an amused smile lifting the corners of his lips.

The prince smirked. 

“You know me too well, Ja’far.”

Not only was the man before him the most beautiful person to have ever decorated his bed, he was by far the most intelligent. However, Ja’far wouldn’t appreciate such a statement, so he kept quiet and settled for pressing a chaste kiss against his lover’s hand and drawing the man close.

“You certainly are the greatest minister the Huang Empire has had to date.”

“Really En, when you act like this, sometimes I think you’d prefer to have me as a consort than as a counselor.”

“Either way, I trust you’ll make me proud.”

He casually brushed a stray hair from the side of Ja’far’s freckled face. 

“Consider it done.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Kumat = Heliohapt. See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Egypt

Morning in the Mehran Kingdom always came too soon. He yawned widely as he sat up, rubbed away the small drops of moisture that had gathered at the corners of his eyes and frowned. While he was asleep, the sun had already climbed higher into the sky than he’d expected. Where were the maids? Why hadn’t anyone come to wake him? King Sinbad was certainly not one to complain about getting some extra shut-eye but this was an important week and they’d slacked off enough on the preparations already. It was definitely not the right time to be oversleeping. Cursing under his breath, he grabbed the neatly folded set of robes on the nightstand and hurried to get dressed. When he burst out of the doors to his room, a thin young man with startlingly red eyes and long, jet black hair tied into a long, thick braid jumped out of his way.

“Morning, Sunshine,” he snickered. “Love the hair.”

Sinbad patted the enormous knot on the side of his head where he’d attempted to tie his long purple hair into a ponytail and grinned.

“Thanks. Does it look good on me?”

“Not at all,” the shorter man sighed, resting his cheek in his hand. “If only you’d let me cut your hair, Sin. I think you’d look much better with something shorter.”

The king made a face and attempted to sort out his hair as the two of them walked down the hall.

“Not a chance, Judal. Next thing I know, you’ll have me wearing eyeliner just like you.”

“I would never!” Judal exclaimed, his conspicuously lined eyes widening in a look of mock-affront. “The Magi look isn’t for everyone, my King and it would suit you even less than it does that tattooed man from Kumat* you call an ally.”

“King Armakan lives in the desert and his *black* eyeliner has a purpose.”

“And mine doesn’t?”

He quickly stepped in front of Sinbad, blocking the taller man’s movements down the hallway, and pressed their bodies close, placing his hands squarely on the king’s broad chest. Slowly, he trailed his fingers down, whilst peering up at Sinbad through long dark eyelashes, a seductive smile on his lips.

“Don’t you think it looks sexy?”

His lips curled even further as he felt Sinbad’s heart thudding frantically against his palm. Judal looked beautiful and he knew it. The compliments had been showered on him since he was a child and at the rate he was going, there were no signs that they were going to stop coming any time soon. That being said, Judal knew a handsome man when he saw one and he had fallen deeply, embarrassingly in love with the young Sinbad the moment he’d laid eyes on the man.

But Sinbad didn’t answer him. Instead, a distinct blush coloring his cheeks, he cleared his throat and removed Judal’s hands from his body and led his Magi down the hallway by the bangle-covered wrist. In truth, the dark maroon eyeliner did look good on Judal and had they been alone in Sinbad’s room, this would have played out differently. However, it was nearly midday and the visiting dignitaries from the Huang Empire were due in less than two days and the palace had yet to be properly cleaned for their arrival. He made a mental note to find Judal in the late evening, however.

“Why didn’t you wake me up this morning?”

“Well, you just looked so adorab—I mean, peaceful that I didn’t want to wake you up just yet.”

“So you stood outside and kept everyone from coming in.”

Judal shrugged and offered him a mischievous grin.

“I appreciate the thought, but next time we’re behind schedule like this, I expect you to make sure I wake up so we can finish the preparations.”

“Fine...”

Without turning around, Sinbad could practically hear the pout forming on Judal’s face. In spite of himself, he grinned. He shouldn’t spoil the teenage magician, as so many before him had been wont to do, but sometimes he couldn’t help it. 

“Come to my room after dinner,” he whispered, lacing his fingers with his Magi’s. “You’ll get what you want once everything else has been settled.”

But the promised evening never happened. While Sinbad had believed they were behind, he hadn’t realized it was the understatement of the century. Things that should’ve been done last week, and were marked accordingly, were still not complete, and the poor king ended up having to go down to the docks to inspect everything himself. After a long day of hanging decorations and using an unexpected amount of magic on other menial tasks, a grumbling Judal had finally stormed in to Sinbad’s study long after the servants had gone to bed only to find his King face-down in a pile of scrolls, fast asleep. Fully prepared to make the man suffer for what he had put him through, Judal raised his wand, ready to rain an icy hell upon him. But as Sinbad shifted in his sleep, a scroll tumbled down onto the tiled floor and Judal hesitated. The torrent of cold water turned into a single drop that landed on the king’s ink-stained cheek and he stirred.

“Mmph... Judal?” he mumbled, peering through the haze to the man in the doorway.

“Hey, Stupid King.”

Judal held out a hand.

“It’s time for bed.”

This time, it was his turn to lead Sinbad down the hall, back to his bedroom. In spite of himself, he smiled. This was not unlike the nights when they’d both had too much to drink and he had to fetch someone to haul the king’s drunk ass back so they could both get some sleep. As he tucked the exhausted Sinbad into bed, he was struck by a sudden thought. Of course there would be no love-making tonight, but he could still accompany his king to the land of dreams. Like anyone would try and stop him. Grinning cheerfully, he lifted the covers and hopped in.

***

“Ja’far?”

“Hmm? What is it, Aladdin?”

The boy in blue inched forward, worry etched into the lines between his eyebrows.

“You look like you’re worried about something.”

The government official leaned away from the railing of the ship, the varnished wood floor creaking slightly beneath him as he made his way towards the child Magi. He bent down and ruffled the boy’s bangs.

“Nah, I just have a slight stomachache,” Ja’far laughed. “I tend to get seasick on long voyages if I eat too much and I think I might have overdone it at dinner tonight.   
So I thought I’d come out here and get some fresh air.”

Relieved, Aladdin pushed Ja’far’s hand away and smiled.

“Thank goodness,” he sighed. “I was afraid there was something wrong.”

“The only thing bothering me right now is you being up at this hour,” Ja’far teased. “Growing children need their rest and if you want to get any taller, you’ll go to bed right now!”

Shock evident on his face, Aladdin stiffened.

“Y-you’re right!” he stammered. “I don’t want to be short forever! Good night, Ja’far!”

Ja’far waved, fully expecting the boy to stay put for the rest of the night, but as Aladdin reached the door, he placed his hand on the frame and turned, his expression soft.

“I know I’m young, Ja’far, but I’m still our nation’s Oracle,” he said, the slightest trace of disquiet in his voice. “If you need anyone to talk to, I’m right here, okay?”

And then he turned, his footsteps fading as he disappeared inside the ship. Ja’far blinked. No matter how many times he saw it, he still wasn’t used to that kind of maturity from Aladdin. Well, it was due in part to the boy’s appearance. To Ja’far’s eyes, he still looked tiny, like a child, but it was moments like these in which he understood just why Aladdin bore his title and heavy burden that came with it. Then again, even children had their moments of strikingly accurate perception. He sighed and retook his place at the railing.

The night air really was soothing, he thought, straightening up as a cool breeze played through his pale hair. Afraid a sudden wind would knock his hat clean off, he’d left the headpiece inside and he did not regret the decision. Being out on the deck like this was refreshing and he had a clear view of the stars from where he stood. But for now, he focused his attention on the path before him. Black met darker black in an invisible line where the sky touched the sea. Not being a seafarer himself, he had no idea where they were or how long it would take to get there, but somewhere out there in the pitch dark, the Kingdom of Mehran, led by the enigmatic King Sinbad, lay waiting for him.

He rested his cheek in his hand. He’d read the scrolls Kouen had pointed out to him, but there was still very little information to be gained from the stories. From what he could tell, Sinbad was either a fantastic liar or a formidable man. Ja’far’s storm-gray eyes narrowed. Or perhaps both. Either way, he would do well to stay on his toes. As he and Kouen both knew, it was best to keep one’s friends close and one’s enemies closer. Which one Sinbad would turn out to be was a total mystery for now. But Ja’far would find out. He was an excellent diplomat and a surprisingly competent intelligence officer. He would do everything in his power to prevent war from breaking out. He had to.

En was counting on him.


	3. Chapter 3

As they made their way to the Throne Room, Judal did nothing to hide his wide yawn. Sinbad would have shot him a stern look if he wasn’t feeling so tired himself. At long last, all the papers had been processed, the palace was clean and the meals were being prepared as they walked. Somehow they’d managed to get everything completed on time. More or less, anyway, Sinbad thought, adjusting a small vase of tropical flowers as he passed. If it weren’t for Judal’s magic, he wasn’t sure what they would have done. If only they didn’t slack off so much, nights like the last wouldn’t happen and he might actually be able to greet guests after more than a few hours’ sleep. That’s what he kept telling himself but somehow they always managed to lose focus and fall behind time and time again.

He sighed. From what he’d gathered, the Huang Empire was a powerful nation, rich in both resources and manpower. The country was run by powerful generals and would make a strong ally and trading partner for Mehran but his interests in Huang didn’t end there. Their visiting parliamentary minister was rumored to be a great beauty and Sinbad would be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn’t the least bit interested in finding out for himself whether or not this was true. As if reading his mind, Judal scowled heavily and fixed his king with a distrustful glance.

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, angrily stuffing his hands into his sleeves.

“Think about what?” Sinbad asked innocently.

“I don’t care how cute she is,” Judal spat. “I won’t let that filthy whore lay a finger on you as long as you have me.” 

Startled, Sinbad turned to look at his high priest.

“Judal.”

“What? If you don’t want me to talk like that, then you’ll stop being such a womanizer! You know it makes me jealous when you wander off at night.”

The king grimaced.

“I won’t do anything with her okay?”

“You’d better not,” Judal mumbled angrily, his eyes narrowed to near-slits. If she so much as batted an eyelash at his man, he’d pluck her eyelids clean just to keep it from happening again. And Sinbad knew it.

“I’m serious, Judal,” Sinbad warned. “Don’t do anything rash. These are very important guests and if we want this alliance to work, we’ll keep our emotions in check.”

But before Judal could manage another retort, they had already set foot in the Throne Room, where trumpets blasted from all sides, announcing their arrival. Sinbad waved his hand merrily and smiled amid cries of “Long Live the King!” echoing throughout the room. Luckily, it didn’t take Judal long to put on a pleasant face as he spread his arms wide to greet the masses. When the noise finally died down, the King and his Magi had taken their places, the former seated on his throne and the latter standing silently behind him, his back straight as an arrow. That was when the two dignitaries who had been bowing before them finally raised their heads.

And for a moment, Sinbad stopped breathing.

\-----------------

“Ja’far,” Aladdin whispered, nudging his companion with a small elbow. He hoped the action wasn’t too conspicuous, but surely the fact that they weren’t budging or saying anything had already caught everyone’s attention. A little elbowing wouldn’t be noticed right now.

“Ja’far!!”

The white-haired man let out a sharp gasp as the child’s even sharper elbow dug into his ribs. Mentally shaking himself out of his trance, he straightened up and cleared his throat.

“Greetings, King Sinbad. We have come at your request to establish diplomatic ties between your Kingdom of Mehran and our Great Huang Empire. We’d like to thank you for your warm welcome at the harbor and for your generous hospitality.”

Was it just his imagination, or did it take the King a moment to find his words as well?

“Please rise, Minister. You and your Magi should not have to kneel before us.”

Ja’far tried not to stumble as he got to his feet. All this time, he had been worried about Aladdin tripping over his long robes to the point where he’d helped to tailor some of the lapels himself last night. Never did he think that *he* would be the one who couldn’t keep his balance when it was necessary. What a disgrace. Kouen would surely be disappointed in him...

But when his eyes met the king’s once again, all thoughts of Huang’s Imperial First Prince disappeared from recollection. Something about Sinbad’s face stuck out at him. Had they met somewhere before?

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

He tried to maintain eye contact without appearing as if he were outright staring as they stood facing each other. Although he seemed a little off right now, King Sinbad was said to be a perceptive man.   
What would Ja’far do if the ruler noticed how Ja’far’s eyes lingered a little too long on his thick dark brows, his mysterious golden eyes or the muscle that was so obvious even under all those layers of robes? Would he misinterpret Ja’far’s gaze for something a little less... appropriate? He quickly cleared his throat and continued.

“My name is Ja’far and I am the Chief Parliamentary Minister of Huang. I come on Prince Ren Kouen’s orders as an escort to our Magi as we visit your fine country. Unfortunately, our Imperial Prince is needed to tend to domestic affairs and is unable to come in person, so I will be acting in his stead, as this is a simple introductory visit. As an apology, we’d like to offer our own hospitality. If you could ever find the time to pay us a visit, you’ll find that we are gracious hosts to our allies.”

Aladdin turned to the man sent to accompany him, worry tinging the clear blue of his eyes. Ja’far had barely noticed that the Magi standing beside King Sinbad was practically trying to bore holes into his head with his frighteningly red eyes. But then again, neither had the king. If Aladdin didn’t know better, he might say that Sinbad was as fixated on Ja’far as Ja’far was on him. He nudged his friend, who looked down at him as if snapping out of a daze, again.

“Allow me to introduce our Magi,” the freckled official said, gesturing to the boy beside him and bowing.

As the young magician turned to King Sinbad and Judal, the former stood and beckoned for the visitors to approach the throne. Grinning cheerfully, Aladdin trotted up the steps, holding his robes up over his feet so that he wouldn’t trip, Ja’far following steadily in his footsteps. The little Magi shook out a long blue sleeve and extended a hand.

“My name is Aladdin! I am the Oracle of the Great Huang Empire. It’s nice to meet you.”

Sinbad pushed his own Magi forward, and they stepped down to greet their guests. Judal gripped Aladdin’s small hand tightly in his own and the child beamed even more widely than before. The teenager smirked. This little runt was actually kind of cute.

“Likewise, Pipsqueak.”

While their Magi talked, Sinbad took a moment to appraise the freckled diplomat. While Ja’far was not a conventional beauty by Huang’s standards, the rumors were most certainly true. Sinbad kicked himself internally for immediately assuming the counselor was a woman. If anything, the rumors did not do this man justice. They did nothing to convey the depths of his eyes, dark like wintergreen jade and as mysterious as the depths of the ocean he’d crossed, nor did they mention the apparent softness of his hair, the color of moonlight and the texture of their Empire’s finest silk. And that skin... as smooth as the porcelain vases in the harbor and just as flawless. If it weren’t for the sharp intelligence in Ja’far’s eyes Sinbad might have been fooled into thinking that the Imperial Prince had sent a mere doll made of their country’s most precious exports to accompany their Magi on the long journey here. 

But he knew the ambassador was no gift for him and his country. How Ren Kouen could stand to part with something so precious to Huang must mean that a great deal was to be expected of this visit. Sinbad knew that this was most definitely a time to keep his hands to himself.

And yet, a vague something tugged at his heart, a prickle of familiarity stirring the blood in his veins as he looked upon this young man’s face. His eyes seemed to see right through the King of Mehran and he was stunned to see his own curiosity and perhaps a touch of longing reflected in the very eyes he looked into.

“So, you’re the Chief Parliamentary Minister, Ja’far...”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I am pleased to be making your acquaintance at last,” Ja’far replied, bowing respectfully once again.

“Likewise,” Sinbad said, his voice softening. “It must have been a long and difficult journey.”

The change in tone was not lost on the white-haired official, who hesitantly looked up. The King didn’t miss the faint blush rising in those pale, freckled cheeks and couldn’t help but feel pleased with his finding. He watched as Ja’far shook himself mentally and put his most sociable smile back on his face.

“Not at all, Your Majesty,” he said respectfully, “but we are very happy to have arrived in such a beautiful kingdom in such fair weather. I am sure we will have much to talk about in the coming days and I thank you for granting us audience this day. It is my hope that we may forge a successful alliance between our two countries and that we will prosper as you will.”

The King stepped forward and carefully laid a hand upon the diplomat’s.

“I hope you enjoy your stay here,” he said gently.

Ja’far’s heart had jumped into his throat, cruelly expanding until he couldn’t breathe.

“I’m certain we will, Your Grace,” the freckled man replied at last, bowing deeply.

Neither of them saw the way the watching red eyes of Mehran’s Magi narrowed in suspicion.


	4. Chapter 4

“So, Aladdin and Ja’far... What do you think of them, Judal?”

Judal didn’t answer. The young man merely continued following in Sinbad’s footsteps, his long black braid swishing behind him as he walked down the long hallway. The Magi had been quiet for some time now. He hadn’t uttered so much as a single snarky comment since their meeting with the Huang dignitaries over an hour ago. The king observed him attentively, unease steadily writing its way deeper into the furrows between his thick, dark brows the further they walked. The sound of their shoes clicking against the ceramic tiles echoed hollowly, loudly, around them as they passed beneath vaulted arch after vaulted arch and still Judal did not speak. Sinbad was wondering just how much longer Mehran’s palace corridors could stretch on when he realized Judal had stopped following behind him.

“I don’t like him,” he said.

“Him? You mean Aladdin?” Sinbad asked, turning to face the younger man.

“No, the runt’s alright. I meant the albino.”

Earlier that morning, Judal had breathed a small sigh of relief. Pretty as he was, upon closer inspection the person standing beside Aladdin was definitely a man. While women flocked to Sinbad the way butterflies were drawn to flowers, a man was much less likely to approach the king in such a flirtatious manner. But when he saw the way Sinbad looked at the Minister, heard the softness in his voice that he usually reserved for Judal, a chill crept over his heart. He held his breath waiting for the answer and held it again when that foreign dignitary’s curious gaze turned into one of longing. He’d nearly choked.

“Judal...” 

“What?” he snapped, peevishly crossing his arms over his chest and glaring.

He knew his king’s appetites well enough to know that gender had little bearing on his choice of conquests. Sinbad sighed. He’d been with Judal long enough to know exactly where the Magi’s thoughts were heading.

“Judal, I already promised that I wouldn’t do anything, didn’t I?”

He stepped forward with open arms.

“And I meant it. Now come on, we have a lunch to attend.”

He stumbled slightly as his high priest nearly tackled him, wrapping his bangled arms around Sinbad’s waist and leaning his full weight against the man’s ribs. Judal may have looked thin, but it was all lean, sinewy, heavy muscle.

“I don’t like the way he was looking at you,” Judal grumbled, pouting, his cheek resting on Sinbad’s chest like he was a sulking child. The taller man couldn’t help himself; a teasing grin slowly grew on his face.

“Judal, are you jealous?”

“Maybe...” the younger man admitted, a sly smile gracing his features. “Are you going to do something about it?”

Without warning, he reached up and grabbed Sinbad by the hair, swallowing the man’s answer in a fierce, messy kiss before it could even leave his mouth.

“Mmph...”

Something about the way Judal kissed unnerved him. It was too raw, too hungry, too passionate... Kissing Judal was like playing with fire; there was something dangerous and all-consuming about it. And yet something in him craved that burn and allowed him to keep kissing back every time. It wasn’t long before he felt Judal’s tongue invading but he welcomed it, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist and drawing his teenaged lover in closer before breaking away abruptly with a sharp hiss of pain. Judal had bitten his lip.

“Sorry. Too much?”

Wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth with a swipe of his thumb, Sinbad licked his lips and half-grimaced, half-smiled.

“Just a little.”

He straightened up his headpiece and together they continued down the hall, the Magi at his side looking much happier than he had earlier. He couldn’t help smiling a little more as Judal slipped his hand into Sinbad’s larger one, their fingers naturally intertwining as they walked. But the fierce heat from Judal’s palm was enough to remind him with that a love like this, that burned too hot, it may only be a matter of time before they were both swallowed up and destroyed by it.

***  
Meanwhile in the guest’s wing, the younger, blue-haired Magi from Huang sat alone on his bed, contemplating the events of this morning. Something had happened upon their arrival in Mehran but he wasn’t sure what. He hadn’t noticed anything when they’d arrived at the docks, nor did anything seem the least bit off when they’d arrived at the palace. In fact, everything had seemed normal up until they’d gone to the throne room. Was it their meeting with King Sinbad?

Wrinkling his nose, Aladdin kicked off his stiff black shoes, hastily tore off his socks and stretched out his feet, relishing the feeling of cool air on his temporarily freed toes. Why did they have to wear shoes anyway? He much preferred to go barefoot, like the children he’d seen running on Mehran’s warm sandy beaches that morning. He sighed and flopped back against the soft satiny covers of his bed, running his palms over the rich fabric. This bed was really comfortable. Maybe Ja’far would let him take a nap after lunch?

Aladdin could feel the corners of his mouth drooping slightly as he thought of the white-haired government official he’d come to regard as an older brother. Ja’far had seemed shaken by this morning’s meeting. He had barely said a word to Aladdin since they’d left for their individual suites and he had appeared noticeably distracted when he’d promised to come get the Magi for lunch. The boy would have sworn something had happened if he hadn’t been there with Ja’far the whole time. His eyes drifted along the far wall until they came to rest on his winged staff. Perhaps this was a good time to consult the Rukh?

He hopped off the bed, treading lightly on the beautifully embroidered carpet beneath his bare feet as he came to the magic tool resting against the wall. The beautifully carved staff had been a gift from the Emperor himself, given to him on his twelfth* birthday along with a gorgeous red sash to go with his new robes. He picked it up and waved it once into the air.

The bejeweled red eyes of the bird making up the staff head appeared to glow with life and at once, small bursts of light filled the room. As Aladdin’s eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness, he could make out the fuzzy outlines of birds, much simpler in shape than the phoenix-like figure adorning his staff. Smiling, he set his staff down with a muffled thump against the carpet.

“Hello again, my friends.”

The Rukh chattered around him, flapping their wings and hovering in the air before him, as if waiting.

“What? What is it?”

Aladdin squinted at the creatures. Was it their size or their brightness? Maybe their color? Somehow, they seemed different than before, as if something had changed drastically since their departure from Huang. Maybe he should have checked with them while he was still on the ship, then he would have had a better idea of what kind of changes they would go through as they crossed the ocean. Inwardly, he felt a twinge of guilt. As Oracle of the Great Huang Empire, he had been taught magic as soon as he was old enough to read and write. It was his duty to learn the kind of conjuring magic necessary to defend his country and to practice it daily so that he would be ready when the Empire needed him. He hated to admit it, but in a way, he had been treating this diplomatic visit almost like a vacation. But could anyone blame him? He was only twelve years old and had barely been out of the palace for more than a day. He couldn’t help getting excited.  
He returned his attention to the Rukh, sighing as he watched them fly about. He frowned. No, there was definitely something wrong. He could tell, even if he had only been able to summon them into a materialized form within the last few years. If Aladdin didn’t know any better, he’d say they appeared... agitated.

“What’s going on with you all?” Aladdin whispered, reaching out to touch one.

Without warning, a sharp knock came at the door. He gasped and jumped back, shocked. A quick wave of the staff and the Rukh dissipated again, vanishing before Ja’far’s muffled voice sounded through the door.

“Oracle?”

“Yes, come in!” Aladdin cried, running back and forth to retrieve his shoes. Behind him, the door opened with a small squeak and Ja’far’s freckled face appeared in the doorway.

“I’ve come to escort you to lunch—” he started as Aladdin abruptly tripped on the lapels of his robes and promptly face-planted into the carpet. “Aladdin, what are you doing?”

“N-nothing!”

The blue-haired boy put what he hoped was his usual sunny smile back on his face even as he rubbed his smarting nose.

“I just decided to take off my shoes for a bit. It’s too hot in Mehran for shoes, don’t you think?”

He let out a small sigh of relief as Ja’far chuckled in amusement.

“That may be so,” the silver-haired man replied, “But you should still wear them. What will our hosts think of us if they were to see you running around barefoot?” He held out a hand. “Now, why don’t you put your shoes back on and we’ll go to lunch?”

“Okay...”

As they walked down the hallway, each lost in their own thoughts, Aladdin snuck another quick look at Ja’far. The man was good at looking composed, but ten years spent in the Minister’s company had taught him much about the man’s moods and he could tell better than anyone, save the Imperial Prince himself, when Ja’far was feeling uncomfortable. And then there was the matter of the Rukh... Should Aladdin talk to Mehran’s High Priest about them? Judal was a Magi too, after all. Aladdin had never seen the Rukh like this, and since the Rukh were the harbringers of Fate itself... Aladdin nervously chewed on his lower lip. 

Whatever was coming for them... it was not going to be good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *the number 12 has significance in the Chinese calendar because it marks the completion of one zodiac cycle. Every 12 years, your birthday is a “ben ling nian” and the celebration is marked with a gift of a red sash or red undergarments.
> 
> Also I apologize for the slow updates. My muse has been a little picky about what I get to write lately. Things are really going to pick up later and I'll have to change the rating eventually. I hope everyone enjoys reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it :)


	5. Chapter 5

Thankfully, lunch was a relatively quiet affair. There was no denying that the food was good—Aladdin saw to that, diving in to his plate with the kind of voracious appetite one would expect of a growing boy. What was surprising, however, was how little Judal ate. Instead, the older Magi looked more focused on the guests than on the food. Sinbad watched nervously as the teen pushed his rice from one end of the plate to the other, his bright red eyes never leaving the freckled face of the foreign dignitary who sat across from them. Interestingly enough, Ja’far didn’t pay him any mind. Instead, his attention was entirely focused on his ward and Magi.

“Aladdin,” he chided gently, “You should slow down and eat properly. Remember that you’re our Oracle and we have taught you table manners.”

Swallowing a large chunk of meat, Aladdin looked up at him with his bright blue eyes and grinned.

“Sorry, big brother Ja’far.”

“Big brother?” Sinbad and Judal repeated.

Light pink bloomed on Ja’far’s cheeks as he smiled bashfully and said, “I’ve watched over the Oracle since his infancy. As you can imagine, I’ve grown quite fond of him and think of him as family even though we are not related by blood.”

“I see,” Sinbad said softly. His eyes sought out Ja’far’s dark ones, which quickly looked away as soon as their gazes connected. The king found himself impressed with the way that polite smile never left the dignitary’s pale face even though he had seen a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Even though he had observed the man for only two occasions so far, he could already see that Ja’far was a competent government official and an excellent guardian for Huang’s young Magi. No wonder Prince Ren Kouen had sent him. Next to him, Judal cleared his throat.

“Sin?”

“Yes, Judal?”

“You have something in your teeth.”

Instantly, Sinbad’s hand went to his mouth.

“What? Where?”

“Look at me?”

Judal placed his hand on Sinbad’s cheek and gently guided him so that his lover was facing him. He squinted a little, picked a spot at random and lazily pointed. As Sinbad turned away from the table, napkin in hand, Judal turned to Ja’far with an almost poisonously sweet smile.

“It appears you and your Magi are very close as well,” Ja’far observed kindly.

 _We most certainly are,_ Judal thought triumphantly. _And don’t you forget it, you potential homewrecker._

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” the dark-haired teenager sighed, possessively lacing his fingers together with Sinbad’s under the table. Sinbad shot him a suspicious look at the touch and lowered his napkin. “Oh, you got it, My King. Your teeth are clean now.”

“Thanks...”

“Of course,” Judal replied, beaming.

_Anything for you, My King..._

***  
The king was supposed to take them around the marketplace that afternoon, but unfortunately, the chief secretary had discovered that some numbers were amiss on the last set of documents Sinbad had handed in. Accompanied by two trusted palace servants and Mehran’s secretary of commerce, Ja’far and Aladdin went out to see the sights without him. Unfortunately, while Sinbad was in his office dealing with paperwork, the young Magi had come across a stand selling unusual sweets and Ja’far, who wasn’t usually inclined to spoil Aladdin, decided that this was a special occasion. It wasn’t very often that they were out in a foreign country like this, so they bought him a bag, which he happily munched on throughout the afternoon. However, in spite of Ja’far’s warnings not to spoil his dinner, Aladdin somehow managed to eat too much anyway; the sweets turned out to be heavier than anticipated and the little Magi ended up returning to the palace with a stomachache.

“I’m sorry, Big Brother,” the blue-haired boy groaned as he rolled onto his bed, “but they were so delicious! I just kept eating...”

“Well, I hope you learned a valuable lesson, Aladdin,” Ja’far sighed. He watched the boy curl up onto his side, rubbing his belly with a grimace on his usually cheerful face. “I don’t think the rest of the palace is willing to wait for dinner and I’m told the chefs spared no effort for their special guests.”

He sat down at the child’s side and gently ran a hand through his soft blue bangs.

“I’ll have the servants send up a tray later tonight when you get hungry, okay?” he murmured soothingly. “Why don’t you rest for now?”

He stood to leave.

“I’m going to take a quick walk before dinner. I’ll let the King and his Magi know that you won’t be joining us and I’ll speak to the servants as well, alright?”

“Come back soon, okay?” Aladdin called weakly as Ja’far reached the door. The white-haired man turned and smiled softly.

“I will.”

***  
After he thanked the last servant and closed the door behind him, he leaned against the heavy wood and let out a sigh. He had done what research he could in the small span of time before they departed Huang but there was little that could have prepared him for Mehran’s tropical heat. True, Huang got its fair share of humidity during its summers, but right now, the capital city would have been in the midst of winter. The palace grounds would be blanketed in a thick layer of snow and the air would be chilly and dry.

Ja’far discreetly pulled a small wooden fan out from the confines of his sleeves and began fanning himself with it as he walked down the hallway. He was wearing his summer robes but they were still too thick, too heavy for the ocean winds to penetrate and instead, the moisture and salt seemed to weigh him down even more. A bead of sweat dripped down his temple and he fanned faster. How he wished he could exchange his official robes for Mehran’s lighter ones...

Just when he thought he would suffocate where he stood, a light floral scent drifted towards him from down the hall. Curious, Ja’far followed it to a set of open doors that seemed to appear from out of nowhere on his right and walked out into the night.

He found himself on a large balcony overlooking the gardens, the blackness of the sky more of a solid navy blue, especially in the faint halo which had gathered around the moon. A soft ocean breeze began to blow, tinging the air with the scent of salt and flowers and he closed his eyes and breathed in gratefully. The cool air was so refreshing against his burning cheeks and sweat-soaked robes.   
In a moment of impulsiveness, he reached up and quietly removed his hat, allowing the night winds to ruffle his bangs, toss his hair every which way and lift away that stifling heaviness that had settled upon him like the lingering sweat that had built up underneath the headpiece. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he began to see them. One by one, they appeared, twinkling in their multitude, a vast spray across the heavens like that of the waves he had crossed to get here.

“The stars,” he breathed.

They looked the same. Although they appeared lower on the horizon in Mehran than they had in Huang’s capital city, the constellations’ relationships to each other had not changed one bit. He could feel his shoulders dropping, his muscles relaxing as he walked forward to get a better look. His gray eyes drifted upwards, past the moon, which shone dimly like an unpolished mirror, to a familiar collection of stars and he lifted his fingers to trace its outline. His thumb brushed over the head of the Great Snake, his remaining fingers sliding over its shining back and as he reached the tail, he found himself smiling. He didn’t realize he was not alone until a low voice suddenly spoke behind him.

“Are you looking for something?”

He whirled, almost dropping his hat in his surprise.

“King Sinbad! How long has Your Majesty been here?”

“Not long,” Sinbad admitted truthfully as he stepped forward to join his guest. As the King of Mehran approached, Ja’far realized he was wearing neither his crown nor his jewels. Nonetheless, he cut an impressive figure with his height and rather broad, muscular frame. “I just thought I’d step out for some fresh air before dinner.” 

For a moment, his eyes flicked towards the sky and then his gaze settled back on Ja’far, whose eyes were once again turned towards the heavens.

“What do the stars look like in The Huang Empire?” he asked quietly.

“About the same, Your Grace,” Ja’far answered, turning towards him with a soft smile. “Shall I tell you of our constellations?”

“Please do.”

“Alright.” He lifted an arm and pointed up, towards the collection of stars he had just been observing. “That is the Great Serpent. I recognize it for its long tail and the way it reaches across the sky. Over there is the head of the Phoenix. I’d show you its wings and tail but in Mehran they appear to be below the horizon... And that right there? The four stars followed by another three? That is the *Northern Ladle.” 

“Northern Ladle?”

“Yes. The three stars are the handle and the four there are the spoon you drink out of.” His eyes softened as he recalled its other name. “Sometimes we call it the Jade Balance of Fate.”

“That’s interesting,” Sinbad said, rubbing his chin. “In Mehran, we call it The Procession.”

When Ja’far gave him a questioning look, the monarch continued, “Legend has it, a great hero was murdered upon his return to his home country and at the funeral, his three sons swore to get revenge for their father’s death. The four stars there make up the hero’s coffin and the three stars following it are the mourners, his children. They follow the North Star to find the man who killed their father.”

“The North Star?” Ja’far asked, squinting up. “Ah, there it is.”

Sinbad had to suppress his amused chuckle. The man before him was pointing at a star much too far to the east. Without thinking about it, he drew closer and placed his hand upon Ja’far’s and gently guided him to the correct star.

“Actually, it’s there.”

His voice was a faint whisper, a puff of air impossibly soft and warm against Ja’far’s chilled ear. He shuddered.

“Are you cold?”

“No...”

How could he be, when the King’s hand was upon his and that warm body was so close to his own? Ja’far could feel his back touching the man’s chest and suddenly, he felt self-conscious. A feverish flush rose to his cheeks but he found himself strangely unable to move away. No, not unable. Unwilling. Something about this felt right. But before he could figure out what it was, the dinner bell rang from within the palace.

“We should go,” Ja’far whispered, his voice suddenly dry. For a moment, Sinbad appeared to have not heard him. Then he nodded slowly and pulled away, removing his hand from Ja’far’s pale one only at the last second. The air on Ja’far’s back felt cold after being pressed against the King for so long but he ignored it, following his host back inside and replacing his hat as he walked.

Behind them, shining high in the sky, the ladle of the Jade Balance of Fate abruptly appeared to dip further towards the horizon and the three mourners began to follow the coffin in a slow march towards the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *the Northern Ladle is what the “Big Dipper” is known as in China. See the following address for the legends associated with The Big Dipper/Ursa Major: http://nfo.edu/astro/ursamj.htm. As you can tell, I embellished the stories a little =3  
> I also used Persian/Middle Eastern legends for the idea of the coffin and mourners.
> 
> Happy New Year's, everyone!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK. Finally wrote something in the next chapter. I've been going out of chronological order but I am going to finish all the open fics I've got on this site. Sorry for the wait and thank you all so much for your patience! Also I now realize I may have to change the rating of the story... Some uh, things happen...

Ja’far hummed happily to himself, his robes swishing pleasantly around his ankles as he walked down the corridor, his arms full of scrolls. The halls were much quieter than usual today, with only one or two faceless servants greeting him as he passed. But as odd as it felt, he didn’t think too long on it. It was good to be home at last. As he approached his destination, he knocked on the set of familiar wooden doors. A familiar, gruff voice answered and, smiling, he pushed his way in.

“Here are the documents you requested,” Ja’far said pleasantly, laying them down on the desk.

“Thank you, Ja’far. But before I fill these out, I have a question for you.”

“Yes, My Lord?”

He felt the weight of his king’s hand upon his own and warmth flooded through him.

“Can you come to my room later tonight?”

“Well, I do have some work to finish myself but I don’t see why—” the words died in his throat as soon as he looked up.

“What’s wrong, Ja’far?” King Sinbad inquired, his thick brows raised in surprise. However, his grip on Ja’far’s hand tightened and as the white-haired man looked down at himself, he saw himself dressed in long pale eggshell-colored robes trimmed with dark green, the black diamond pattern obvious even in the dim candlelight of the office. He was wearing Mehran’s official robes—Judal’s robes.

“S-Sin—” was all he managed to get out before he was dragged down for a kiss. Suddenly, he was on his back, this foreign king’s tongue invading his mouth, large and unfamiliar hands searching beneath his robes and running hotly over his skin until they found what they were looking for. The sound of Ja'far's ragged pants soon filled the room as he bucked and twitched on that paper-strewn desk, his body crying out for more. He reached up, tangling his fingers in that luxurious, long purple hair, his eyes never leaving Sinbad’s handsome face even as he felt himself being taken like the filthy slut they both knew he was...

“Sin,” he whispered, his eyes closing as his body relaxed into a steady rhythm against Sinbad’s. This felt so good...

“Sin...”

The desk creaked and groaned beneath them as a pounding came at the door. 

“Sin...!”

He could get the door later.

“Sin!!”

_Bang, bang, bang!!_

“Ja’far?!”

His eyes snapped open to see a dark green canopy swaying above him, the light of a beautiful tropical morning streaming in from the open windows. He lifted the sheets and felt the hot flush of shame burst to life on his already warmed cheeks when he saw the mess he had made.

“Big brother Ja’far...!” Aladdin’s muffled voice came from behind the door. “They’re going to start breakfast without us!”

 _What?!_ He sat bolt upright, the cool air a subtle relief on his back; he had been sweating...

“I’m coming in, okay?!”

“NO!!” Ja’far yelled, suddenly panicked. “I’m alright, Aladdin. You go on ahead okay? J-just tell them I’ll be coming later. I’ll apologize for it when I get there.”

A pause, but thankfully the pounding at the door stopped.

“...Are you sure you’re okay?” the young Magi meekly asked.

“Yes,” Ja’far answered, grimacing as he shifted, the stickiness more apparent when he moved. “I’m fine. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“...Alright.”

He waited until the tap-tap of the little Magi’s footsteps disappeared down the hall before he scrambled out of bed and ran for the washroom.

***

“Are you alright, Minister?”

Judal peered over the rim of his goblet, a slender black eyebrow rising as he watched the pale visitor from Huang twitch hard enough to drop his fork.

“Yes, My Lord Magi,” he replied politely, his voice giving away nothing as he retrieved his eating utensil. But Judal was an observant young man and he could see the faintest hint of a blush on those freckled cheeks and the unwillingness to look his king in the eye.

“You know,” the High Priest cut in, a smile bordering on unpleasant tugging at his lips, “In Mehran, as a show of courtesy, we look those we are talking to in the eyes.”

And as the older man turned a momentarily startled glance towards him, the dark-haired teenager grinned, his red eyes trained on the dignitary in a way that reminded Sinbad of a cat eyeing a mouse. A slow wave of unease gradually began to creep over the table, but before the whispers could start, Ja’far smiled back.

“I apologize for the slight, High Priest,” Ja’far replied quietly, “it’s just that in Huang, we try not to stare at our guests; we consider it rude.”

Somewhere down the table, a tanned, chain-wearing general began to cough violently; it appeared he had choked on something but the grin on his face was obvious. Even the King found it hard to suppress a smile. The white-haired Minister was no pushover.

“Why you—” Judal snarled, rising from his chair.

“Big brother?” Aladdin exclaimed, suddenly yanking on Ja’far’s sleeve. “I think I’m full. Do you want to go to the gardens later?”

“I’d love to, My Oracle, but first you have history lessons.”

As the blue-haired boy groaned dramatically and fell back in his chair, Ja’far sternly chided him, “Remember, we promised the Prince we would continue with your lessons while you are here?”

“But this is a diplomatic visit...”

“And not a vacation and I will not see your education suffer during our time away from home. We can go see the garden afterwards if His Highness allows it.”

“We’d be happy to give you a tour of the gardens, wouldn’t we, Judal?” Sinbad offered, turning to his Magi with a meaningful glance.

“Yeah, whatever...”

***

“Uwahhh!! They’re beautiful!”

Picking up his robes so that he wouldn’t trip, the younger Magi dashed forward excitedly, his bright blue eyes darting everywhere, frantically taking in the colors and the shapes.

“Judal, these are beautiful! You get to walk through these gardens every day?!”

“Well, not every day,” Judal said, rubbing his neck. “I have to do work too, ya know.”

“Yeah... work is a pain. Negotiating treaties, stuffy state dinners with power-hungry royals, religious ceremonies...”

Judal stopped, taken aback.

“Y-yeah, totally!” he laughed, running a hand through his black bangs.

Aladdin stopped running long enough to throw a slightly annoyed look at the older Magi.

“What’s so funny?” he asked suspiciously.

“Nothing. I’m just surprised. I didn’t attend my first state dinner until I was twelve. How old did you say you were?”

“Twelve,” Aladdin huffed, sticking his tiny arms into his sleeves and puffing out his chest.

Judal chuckled. Those ceremonial robes might have been tailored, but thanks to the sheer volume of fabric, they still looked too big on Aladdin.

“Yeah... I didn’t get to go on diplomatic missions until I was a year older than you. I may have underestimated you, Pipsqueak.”

As the two Magi continued on ahead, talking animatedly, Ja’far smiled. He had been a little worried. The age difference between the High Priest of Mehran and their own little Oracle seemed vast but clearly they had found some common ground and appeared to be getting along quite well. Judal had been a little inhospitable at first but he was clearly opening up to Aladdin. Sinbad let out a sigh of relief.

“I think they’re getting along, don’t you?” the freckled diplomat asked pleasantly. He turned to the king with a soft smile.

“Yeah, I think so too,” Sinbad replied. His eyes swept over Ja’far, who paused to examine a nearby bush full of small yellow flowers. He watched as the shorter man inhaled deeply, a relaxed look on his face as he took in the fragrance.

“You’re quite the Minister.”

“Pardon?” Ja’far asked, looking up as if startled. Sinbad suddenly realized he’d spoken aloud.

“I meant it as a compliment,” the dark-haired man added quickly. “Not only have you come along on this trip as his aide, but tutoring as well? Not letting up even while he’s on vacation?”

“Well, I do take my duties seriously,” Ja’far answered. He brushed his fingers along the plants as they walked, taking in their texture and color. “His education is very important to us.”

Sinbad’s eyes softened.

“Of course. He is your Oracle after all. But it’s clear that you’re very close. I find it endearing.”

Ja’far paused mid-step and Sinbad stopped with him. Was that a blush on the Minister’s cheeks?

“Is that so?”

He thought he could detect a trace of nervousness in Ja’far’s laugh. Strangely, Sinbad found himself wanting to make more than just a good impression on this man.

“Is there anywhere else that you’d like to see after the gardens? I know our official tour is set for later but I was wondering if you were interested in seeing anything in particular?”

“Your Majesty?”

“While we have only built our palace to a modest size, I’m afraid we may not get to all of the rooms. If there’s anywhere you wanted to see, please let me know.”

“Hmm... The offices, perhaps?” Ja’far suggested. “Oh, but there are Aladdin’s lessons...”

“Does your Oracle frequently participate in the paperwork process?”

“No, not really. He is still young, which is why his education is so important. He won’t know how to manage the complexities of internal affairs until his lessons are complete.”

“I see,” Sinbad mused. “You know, Judal hates going into the office when he doesn’t have to. How about we leave the two of them to enjoy themselves here in the gardens while you and I go about our business?”

Ja’far thought for a moment. If there was going to be an alliance, he did want to become acquainted with Mehran’s government work. However, after the dream he’d had this morning, he felt somewhat reluctant to spend too much time alone with King Sinbad. Something about the way this man looked at him made Ja’far’s pulse race. Turning him down, though, would be rude and might damage the Huang Empire’s relations with this kingdom.

“Very well then,” he said at last, placing his hands together and lowering his head in a respectful bow. “I’ll leave a couple attendants with Aladdin so your High Priest won’t have to become a temporary babysitter.”

Sinbad laughed. The deep, rich tone of his voice sounded so very pleasant to Ja’far’s ears. Sinbad’s laugh was so carefree and sincere... He had never heard Kouen laugh quite like this.

“Shall we?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I'm working on other fics simultaneously. I might try to do a Halloween special for either Sinja or Daisuga so keep an eye out for that ;)

“What the hell is this?!”

Ja’far clapped his hands over his mouth, flinching as the outburst echoed shrilly around the room. Laughing, Sinbad followed him inside the heavily stocked room, where the latticed cupboards on the walls were literally full to bursting with scrolls. The room itself was hardly in poor condition; an effort had clearly been made to sweep the floors and clean the windows of grime. However, a large heap of documents lay carelessly piled in the corner furthest from the door while smaller stacks covered every surface of the large desks in the middle of the room, save for a cleared space in the middle of one where a map lay next to a quill and inkpot. The few secretaries in the room, their facial expressions ranging from apologetic to miffed, merely ignored the slight and continued working.

“My deepest apologies, Your Grace,” Ja’far stammered, bowing awkwardly. “I’m sorry, everyone. I meant no offense. I was just taken aback.”

“It’s alright,” Sinbad said nonchalantly, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “This wouldn’t be the first time someone has had that reaction.”

Really? At home, Ja’far would have slapped Ren Koumei, the second prince of Huang, with his own fan for the level of disorganization he saw here. Koumei, with considerable assistance from Ja’far, oversaw internal affairs and on several occasions, Kouen or Ja’far had stormed into the main office to scream at the napping man to wake up and do his work. But the white-haired man wasn’t in Huang today and he was in no position to criticize the king of another country. Clearing his throat as if he merely had a cough, and suppressing the urge to ask who else had nearly fainted from the sight of the mess, Ja’far gestured around the room.

“This is your main office?” he managed weakly.

“Yep. Home sweet home,” Sinbad replied merrily. “And my personal office is behind that open door on the far right.”

“I see. So tell me, how do you organize your papers?”

“Ah. Judal and the generals tend to do most of that. They’ll bring me things to sign and I just get to it when I have time to.”

Ja’far’s dark eyes flicked to the endless stacks on the walls.

“I’ve been a little backed up,” Sinbad admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ja’far nodded solemnly but kept his smile professional.

“Understandable. Running a country with a small staff must be difficult. Have you thought about delegating more of your tasks rather than trying to accomplish things yourself?” He picked up a scroll from the floor and dusted it off. “It almost seems as if everything has to go through you personally. Even the more minor tasks...”

Sinbad thought for a moment. Actually, Ja’far brought up a good point. For some reason, Mehran’s government seemed more mired in bureaucratic red tape than usual. It could be because he’d been a little overworked to the point where he became easily distracted... and unfortunately, Judal provided one hell of a distraction. He grimaced.

“How do you do things in Huang?”

Ja’far thought a moment.

“Well, we do have four princes rather than just one king, so I suppose that does help in terms of work distribution,” he answered slowly. “But I hear you have seven generals? Might some of them be good at handling desk work? Given that you haven’t been at war lately?”

Sinbad didn’t miss the edge in his guest’s voice.

“While it is true we haven’t been fighting anyone, I have had to send almost half of them out of the country on diplomatic visits. As for the rest, I have delegated military matters to them while I handle government affairs. I believe it would be wiser to let them handle national security instead of tying them down with minor paperwork.”

“Then, your Magi?”

“...He does what is necessary.”

“I see.”

The white-haired diplomat walked about the room, examining papers and workers alike as he thought to himself. The King’s attitude towards the teenage Magi troubled him. Judal was a powerful magician and very important to the stability of his country but unlike Aladdin, he was volatile and temperamental. He could see why Sinbad did not want to upset him. Deep in his own thoughts as they entered Sinbad’s personal office, Ja’far could not see the way the older man’s eyes swept over his form and settled on his movements.

Everything Ja’far did was deliberate, Sinbad noticed. The way he walked and held his head with a sense of dignity, the simple elegance of his peaceful smile and the speed at which he had recovered from his earlier gaffe. And what a gaffe. Sinbad smirked into his hand, hoping it wouldn’t show through his ringed fingers. That was amusing. So despite his calm, stately appearance, this Minister of Huang had a feisty side to him. How cute.

“Are you always like this?” he asked, approaching the man from behind.

“What do you mean?”

“You march right in to your host's government headquarters,” Sinbad said, crossing his arms in mock-displeasure. “ _National_ head quarters, by the way, Insult the level of organization you see and then proceed to question me with the aim of obtaining the kind of answers that would show you how to reformat the system. The system, which I might add, you’ve only seen a glimpse of in the five minutes you’ve been in this office. Am I to understand that this is how things are done in the Huang Empire or is this just how you are?”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” Ja’far laughed in embarrassment, the sound echoing pleasantly in Sinbad’s ears. “I don’t know what came over me. It just kind of...” He looked away. ‘Just kind’ of what?

“...came naturally to you?” Sinbad finished quietly. His hand found Ja’far’s. “I know what you mean.”

His hand lingered on Ja’far’s. As it lay there, the visiting dignitary could feel a pleasant heat slowly crawling up his neck, just like on the night they’d looked at the stars together. It was wrong to read too much into it, but he didn’t want to remove his hand. And neither did Sinbad.

“You know... we could use someone like you here,” the king whispered.

Ja’far’s face felt hot. Sinbad’s hands were clasped on either side of his and it felt so... _natural_. Dropping his gaze towards the ground, the minister carefully slipped his hand back underneath his sleeve and turned away.

“I accept the compliment,” he said, walking away, “but not the offer. For obvious reasons.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, are these the records you wished to show me?”

He pulled at an unmarked scroll from a loaded shelf.

“Wait, _don’t—!!_ ”

Ja’far didn’t even have time to gasp as a cascade of scrolls suddenly descended on him. Without warning, he was violently shoved to the floor as a rain of parchment and wood poured down from above. Surprisingly, none of them hit him. He opened his eyes to see a large figure crouching over him, the man’s wide torso shielding him from the onslaught.

“I’m terribly sorry, Minister,” Sinbad groaned, wincing as the last scroll rolled off his back. “I wanted to warn you but...”

“It’s okay! Thank you, Your Majesty, for being so concerned for my safety. Oh, your head-wrap... Let me get that for you.”

But Ja’far never managed to replace the fallen headpiece; he froze. The space between them was suddenly too small and the air too thin. He took in a ragged breath as he felt Sinbad’s piercing golden eyes search his for something, something... Unbidden, the image of King Sinbad from the dream he’d had this morning floated to the surface of his conscious. He wondered if the man across from him could see his thoughts and the color rose to his cheeks. He felt naked.

“Are you alright?”

His head was buzzing, his robes soaked through with sweat. He wanted Sinbad to come even closer, to bring those slowly parting lips to his.

“Minister?”

“Y-yes,” Ja’far answered, his voice a mere croak. “Thank you, Your Highness. I’m fine.”

He reached out to take the king’s proffered hand as he was pulled to his feet.

“Perhaps we should continue this later,” Sinbad said slowly, his thick eyebrows coming together in a look of concern. Aides from the next room rushed in and began to escort Ja’far out, others cleaning Sinbad’s office furiously. “You look a little red. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, of course. But I’ll admit, a short rest does sound good right now,” the shorter man mumbled. “Your Kingdom is lovely, but I’m afraid I’m not quite used to the humidity yet. Please, tell Aladdin that if he needs me, he can find me in my room. Thank you again, King Sinbad. I will see you at dinner.”

Hiding his face behind his voluminous yellow sleeves as he bowed, the white-haired Minister calmly stepped out of the office entirely. His cheeks burned.

***

“Excuse me,” Aladdin said politely, approaching an attendant. “Do you know where Ja’far is? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“His Majesty has taken the Minister to tour the government offices,” the bowing woman answered.

“I see. Thank you.”

“Of course, Oracle.”

Although Aladdin left with a smile, inwardly, the woman’s words pricked at him. There it was again: that paradox. He was always treated with the utmost respect, given his station, but when it came down to it, he would be treated as a child at these random intervals. He knew that he had to study, so that he would be prepared to advise Kouen when the Crown Prince became the Emperor but upon learning that he’d been left behind in the garden, he felt frustrated and useless. At times like these, he wondered if he was more of a figurehead than anything else, attending events but rarely speaking more than greetings. Often Ja’far or another attendant would do most of the talking, even speaking _for him_ at times. It made him want to scream. In contrast, spending time with Judal was so refreshing. Talking to another Magi, even if Judal was a much more experienced one, made him feel human again. Given that he barely understood himself what being a Magi meant, this was enormously comforting.  
It meant that he was not alone.

“Hey, Aladdin! What’s going on?”

“Judal!”

Judal stopped short, looking from the woman to Aladdin. His eyes swept over the courtyard behind them and he scowled.

“Hey, you,” the black-haired Magi snapped, pointing at the same attendant. “Where is Sinbad?”

“He went to the office with the Minister,” she responded, taking a faltering step back. “Is there a problem, Lord Magi?”

Aladdin cast a nervous glance at the older teen. Judal looked _pissed_. He understood that Judal wasn’t a calm person by nature, but the young man seemed particularly quick to anger at the mention of King Sinbad spending time with Ja’far. He wish he knew what had happened to make Judal dislike Ja’far so much when the two had barely spoken so far. It made Aladdin nervous. However, it suddenly occurred to him that Judal must have been saddened by being left behind too.

“Judal,” he said, tugging on the taller boy’s sleeve. “Do you mind coming to my room real quick? I have something I want to show you. Please?”

He put on his biggest, most adorable grin, hoping that Judal would succumb to his puppy-dog eyes just like the crown princesses did at home. Luckily, it was enough to calm him down.

“Ah, fine,” Judal growled, crossing his arms peevishly, “if it’ll get you to stop making that face. It’s sickeningly cute.”

“Thanks, Ju-Ju!”

“Ju-Ju?!”

Laughing at Judal’s flustered expression, Aladdin gleefully grabbed the older boy’s hand and pulled him back towards the palace. They were Magi. They would not be left behind, they could find their own way. Sinbad and Ja’far could come find them when they wanted to. They dashed past the guards, down the halls, past portraits of Judal and Sinbad and paintings of lush tropical landscapes. As they ran, Judal’s shouts gave way to mirthful laughter and at last they arrived, panting, faces flushed with childish joy before Aladdin’s guest room.

“In here!”

The door had barely closed behind them when Aladdin immediately rushed for the wooden chest by the window.

“I was saving these for a special occasion but I thought I could just show you now,” he called over his shoulder as he rummaged through his belongings. Looking around the pristine room, Judal slowly walked forward and then flopped down on his stomach on the bed. Aladdin was surprisingly neat compared to him. It was a tiny bit embarrassing. Then, he heard a triumphant shout.

“Here!”

That was the only warning he got before something nearly hit him in the face.

“Aladdin, what—?”

He turned the round object over in his hand. It was soft but surprisingly heavy, the white flesh tinged with pink fading into a dark fuchsia at one end. He brushed a finger over the slightly fuzzy skin and held it up to his face, breathing in a delicately fruity fragrance.

“I used magic to keep them from spoiling on the trip,” the younger boy confessed with a cheeky grin. “Don’t tell anyone?”

“What is this?”

“It’s a peach!” the twelve-year-old declared proudly. “It’s fruit from back home. We have lots of peach trees in Huang but I read that they don’t grow here. The climate’s too different. But, I thought it’d be nice to have a few to munch on here and there. They’re my favorite so I thought you’d like them too. What do you think?”

He watched eagerly as Judal took a bite.

“It’s good!” Judal exclaimed, his red eyes widening. It was delicately sweet, juicy and fragrant. “I’ve never had anything like this before.”

“Then, take as much as you want,” Aladdin insisted, pushing a bag of them onto his new friend. “I can get these at home when I return. You should enjoy them until we figure out trade deals, maybe even grow a few yourself with magic.”

“I... I’ll do that. Thanks, Aladdin.”

As he looked at the grinning boy sitting beside him on the embroidered sheets, Judal thought he could feel his heart softening.

“You know, it feels like this is the first time in a long time that someone’s treated me so informally,” he chuckled. “I think the only other person who isn’t afraid of talking to me so casually is, well...”

“King Sinbad?”

“Yeah... and sometimes I think even he’s afraid of me.” Judal sighed and took another bite of his peach.

“You don’t have any other friends in the palace?” Aladdin asked, scooting closer.

“Not really. We’re pretty busy a lot of the time. We’re a small country and slightly understaffed so we all do our part. Okay, okay, I skip out on duties a lot,” he admitted when he saw Aladdin’s nose wrinkle, “but that’s not really my job anyway. It’s fun being a Magi and all but this is the first time in a long time someone besides Sinbad has ever treated me like...”

“A regular human being?” Aladdin finished for him.

“Yeah...”

They grew quiet. Aladdin took a peach from the bag and started nibbling contemplatively.

“I don’t have a lot of friends at home either,” he said. “The royal family is nice but I don’t have anyone my own age to talk to. Big Brother Ja’far interacts with me the most but even then a lot of that time is spent on my lessons.” He puffed out his cheeks in a pout. “He’s my friend but he’s also my teacher. It’s different, I guess...”

Slowly, he dropped his hands and directed a hesitant glance at Judal.

“Hey Judal? I’d like us to be more than just allies. If it’s alright with you, let’s be friends. Okay?”

He reached out with a small hand. Judal couldn’t help the smile that stole across his face. The runt was more than just cute. He was endearing.

“Okay,” he said, clasping Aladdin’s hand. At once, he flinched back.

“Ugh! Your hand’s covered in juice.”

“So’s yours!” the younger Magi protested, sticking out his tongue.

Laughter rang throughout the room.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. This one is really long compared to the old ones. I hope everyone likes it OTL  
> Also, for this chapter, I used the following site to look up flower symbolism from India because Shinobu Ohtaka, the mangaka behind Magi, based Sindria off of India. For more flower symbolism, check out this link! http://www.sugandhim.com/images/f&f_industry_articles/indian_auspicious_fragrant_flowers.pdf  
> Also, I put together a playlist on Spotify of songs that inspired me to write the story. If you're interested, please let me know in the comments and I'll find some way to make it public. :)

There was no sign of Ja’far until well past sunset. Aladdin was so caught up having fun with Judal all afternoon that he didn’t notice until the dinner chimes had sounded. He perked up at the sound, the bright clear notes echoing beautifully throughout the halls and courtyards, sat up and raced to the window, where he saw a bright orange sky tinged with traces of pink, clouds luminescent in the setting sun.

“’Bout time!” Judal sighed, patting his stomach. “Those ‘peaches’ were delicious but I could go for a real dinner right about now. Hey, Aladdin, race you to the dining hall?”

“Big Brother isn’t here...” the boy whispered.

“Huh?”

“Big brother Ja’far didn’t come pick me up,” Aladdin repeated, his brows furrowing. Ja’far was the most punctual, efficient person he knew. The few times he didn’t operate like clockwork usually meant the poor man had worked himself into sickness and was staying in bed for the day. Something was off. Something had been off ever since they set foot in this country, but Aladdin just couldn’t figure out _what_.

“What, that Minister of yours?’ Judal snorted. “Forget him. He probably fell asleep or something. I don’t know if he’s always that pale but I think he looked tired this morning. Let’s just go.”

Concerned, but unable to suppress the instinct to be polite to his host, Aladdin let Judal drag him to the dining hall, where the smell of delicious food beckoned them inside. At once, Aladdin’s stomach let out a loud gurgling noise and the heat rose to his face as Judal guffawed at his body’s involuntary response.

“Come on, Pipsqueak, let’s go!” Judal said, holding the door open for him. Aladdin chewed on his lip. Dinner smelled so good and he didn’t want to be rude to Judal but something nagged at him.

“I’m sorry, Judal.”

Aladdin bowed low, so low that the ribbons of his hat nearly touched the ground as he knelt, his hands clasped before him apologetically.

“I need to check on Big Brother. I just don’t feel right going in without him when he’s never failed to come get me. Please, go in first and don’t wait for me. I’m sure you must be hungry.”

Without another word, he picked up his robes and ran down the hall, leaving a dumbfounded Judal in his wake. The older teenager blinked in surprise at the sudden departure. Then, the corners of his mouth slowly turned down into a full scowl as he stomped on the ground, more irritated and confused than he had been when Sinbad had left the two Magi alone in the garden that afternoon.

“Why is everyone so worked up about that damned albino?!”

***

Ja’far couldn’t sleep. At first, he thought it was the heat. Perhaps if he loosed his robes and slept in his undergarments like he often did at home, he would be more comfortable. However, no sooner had the first layer of dense yellow fabric hit the floor, than he suddenly felt self-conscious. Something about the very idea of taking off all his clothes before getting into _this_ bed, perfumed with the scent of another country’s spices, seemed downright _lewd_. The fact that it was a bed that was a part of King Sinbad’s palace only made it worse and his cheeks even burned hotter for it. The last time he’d ever gotten completely naked before getting into bed was when the Crown Prince of Kou had removed everything from his body himself.

His dark green eyes softened at the memory of Prince Kouen. He was a fine prince: intelligent, ambitious and hard-working, always preparing for the next step and completely determined to rule the kingdom responsibly when his ailing father’s health inevitably failed. He cut an impressive figure with his broad shoulders and considerable height and his subjects admired him greatly. Even though he came off as very serious and occasionally intense at court, Ja’far found him to be a quiet, humble man in private, caring and a good lover. Even though he knew perfectly well that Kouen could easily break his neck with his bare hands, the man’s touch was tender and his warmth earnest. Ja’far would be a fool to throw such genuine affection away.

So what was he doing, lusting after another man?

He threw his hat on the ground, kicked off his shoes and the remainder of his clothing and walked briskly into the bathroom, where he stood in the tub, grabbed the metal basin, the water inside long since chilled, and dumped it over his head. He let out a gasp as his entire body was drenched in the cold liquid, grabbing a towel before his teeth could begin chattering and wrapping himself up in it. That had been a lot worse than he was expecting, but he needed it; the intrusive thoughts about King Sinbad quickly dissipated. He dried himself off and threw himself into bed, all cares forgotten as he settled in for a good rest. Sleep never came but he felt comfortable enough like this... He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but after a while, a timid knocking came at the door.

“Big brother?”

It was Aladdin. The little Magi sounded scared...?

“Are you okay?”

Ja’far threw off the covers and sat up, rubbing his eyes wearily.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he croaked, wincing at how dry his voice had become from an afternoon without drinking any water. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I just needed a nap.”

“The dinner bell rang a while ago,” Aladdin continued, his voice only slightly calmer. “I came to get you.”

The Minister’s heart sank. It had? He hadn’t even noticed. Perhaps he had nodded off.

“I am so sorry, Aladdin. You can go in without me, I’ll only be a minute—”

“Can I come in?” the boy interrupted him.

Ja’far paused in the middle of putting on his inner robes.

“I’m afraid I’m not decent,” he laughed awkwardly, “You can come in if you don’t mind—”

“Thanks!”

That was all the warning he got before the door suddenly clicked open and a small blue blur ran in and threw itself onto the bed beside him.

“Big Brother are you alright??” Aladdin exclaimed, his eyes darting all over Ja’far’s body, scanning him for any sign of illness. “Are you sick? What’s wrong? You’ve never missed things like this before.”

“I’m fine, Aladdin. I’m sorry I worried you,” Ja’far sighed. “I’ve just had a hard time adjusting to the weather here. I’m getting old, you see.” He smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“Is that really all?”

He really hoped Aladdin didn’t notice the way he must have twitched at that question.

“Yes, that’s really all.”

He threw on his outer robe and adjusted his hat before he turned and gave his Oracle a warm smile.

“Shall we?”

Aladdin looked appeased but unconvinced. Luckily for Ja’far, the boy’s stomach began to growl and he relented at last.

“Okay...”

***

Dinner was a strange event. Not only were the guests from Huang late, the king was late too. Judal sat at the table, his plate full but his stomach empty. He grumbled angrily to himself as he pushed hummus around his plate with a bit of bread. He hated to admit it, but Aladdin had been a good influence on him. Normally, he’d have dug in without a moment’s notice but today, he decided to wait. Aladdin had been a good friend to him and it felt wrong to eat here without him.

At long last, the door creaked open and the servants bowed as two people arrived at the table. He looked up to see Aladdin and Ja’far settle several places down on his left side, the Minister looking oddly subdued compared to earlier that day. His red eyes fell upon Aladdin, who waved merrily and gestured towards the food, silently asking if it was okay to have some since it looked to him like Judal had already started. It was actually kind of adorable. Now there was only one person missing.

“Where’s Sinbad?” he asked, turning to a passing servant, who looked somewhat taken aback at Judal’s question.

“My Lord Magi, do you intend to wait for His Majesty?”

“Well yeah, duh, don’t I always?”

The servants exchanged a hesitant glance. Judal never waited for anybody, not even the king, but they could never mention that, especially in front of such important guests.

“My apologies for not informing you sooner, Lord Judal, esteemed guests. King Sinbad has some work he wanted to finish up tonight. He insists you dine without him; we will bring something to his office later.”

Judal raised an eyebrow. Was it just him, or did Ja’far look somewhat relieved for a moment? He turned his attention to Aladdin, whose stomach let out another quiet gurgle.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he drawled, pointing at Aladdin. “Dig in. You’re my guests and what I say goes.”

Aladdin smiled embarrassedly, thanked Judal and immediately grabbed a piece of flatbread from the silver plates before them. Ja’far bowed politely, thanking his host, and reached for some food as well, although not as eagerly as Aladdin had. He remained quiet throughout dinner, chewing pensively while keeping a watchful eye on his young charge. However, today he ate little, hardly touching the curry and avoiding similarly heavy dishes in favor of simpler, lighter foods. Deciding to ignore the diplomat, Judal instead engaged Aladdin in conversation again, completely forgetting about Sinbad’s absence until a sudden scrambling at the door alerted him to the king’s arrival.

“Sinbad!” he called, quickly getting to his feet as the sight of his lover filled him with warmth. There was another clatter as the two from Huang stood as well but then Ja’far bowed low, his hat nearly falling off as he bent.

“Ah, Minister, there’s no need for that level of formality,” Sinbad chuckled, indicating for the man to rise. “I finished early so I thought I’d join you all for dinner. I apologize for being late.”

“It’s quite alright,” the white-haired man said quietly, looking up. “In fact, I feel I am the one who must apologize. While I have recovered significantly after my nap, I do not think it wise to remain here in case I do come down with an illness. I do not wish to infect you or your High Priest, Your Majesty.”

Sinbad faltered, the surprise evident on his face.

“Minister, I can assure you that we are in good health. If you don’t mind my saying so, I agree that you look much better than you had earlier today. I would very much enjoy your company at dinner, if you would be so kind—”

Ja’far bowed even lower.

“My deepest apologies, King Sinbad but I must insist.” He turned to look at Aladdin and Judal, who waved him off with the flick of one heavily bangled wrist.

“Sure, take a breather. You barely ate anyway,” Judal sighed. “And don’t worry about Aladdin, he’s safe with me and your attendants.”

“Thank you, My Lord.”

Another deep bow and he was off, his pale yellow robes swishing quietly as he hurriedly passed the tall, purple-haired king. The thunderstruck look on Sinbad’s face was a sight to behold. This may have been the first time anyone had ever seen the High King of Mehran rejected. Judal grinned and tucked into his dessert with relish.

***

That was close, Ja’far thought to himself as he rushed back to his chambers. He ducked his head, not wanting to so much as glance at the tall paintings on either side of him, lest he look upon Sinbad’s face and reignite the feelings he was fighting so hard to suppress. Although he kept his stride brisk, the walk seemed to take longer than he anticipated and he was out of breath and sweating by the time he arrived in his room.

“Curse this heat!” he snapped, mopping at the sweat beading upon his freckled nose with one ruffled sleeve. As undignified as it looked, it felt oddly liberating and he went to the window, where he threw open the shutters with a sharp bang, letting in a blast of cool air. He loosened the front of his robes and fanned himself vigorously until his labored breathing became more even.

Now that he was calmer, the full force of how he had behaved hit him and he groaned into his hands. He had been horrifically rude. If this had taken place at home, he was sure to be reprimanded by the Prince, perhaps even stripped of his position for his transgressions. Thankfully, the High Priest hadn’t been offended at his sudden departure and had seemed gracious to Ja’far, which given how hostile he had seemed at their first few meetings was a welcome surprise. Ja’far sensed that Judal might not like him very much, although the reason why was a complete mystery to him. He sighed and slumped down into his chair, his chin in his hand as he leaned out the window and gazed morosely into the night. 

His eyes drifted skyward towards the stars and he sighed as his vision settled on the seven stars that made up the Jade Balance of Fate. He squinted. That was odd; the constellation appeared to sit lower on the horizon than it did the last time he saw it, in fact it seemed almost crooked... He stood and leaned out the window to get a better look.

“Ah!”

Out of nowhere, a strong gust of wind howled through the trees, sweeping his bangs back and ripping his hat from his head. He made a grab for it but it danced just out of reach and he watched it sail towards a remote corner of the garden, where it finally drifted down past the canopy of trees into the grass several stories below. For a moment, he could only gawp stupidly at it as it sat there, blending innocuously into the grass. If it weren’t for the gleam of the golden ornament adorning the headpiece, shining brightly with the reflected light of the torches, he never would’ve found it.  
He sighed and leaned away from the window, his grip tightening on the decorated sill. He wasn’t the kind of man to make the servants search for the hat until dawn, especially when he had been the only one who had seen where it went. Moreover, he had slighted the king at dinner and asking for a favor now would just be insulting. Better to go and fetch it himself.

***

He felt somewhat guilty, wandering the halls at night, feeling improperly dressed without his official’s hat. Back in Huang, he might have been okay with it since Kouen never seemed to mind but here, where he had arrived on official business...

Ja’far shuddered as he recalled the flustered apologies he’d made to the guards, who were very gracious in allowing him to enter the gardens alone. Even at night, they were a sight to behold. He passed several trees and a small waterway, the clear blue pool rippling calmly with the breeze as he made his way to the small copse where his hat laid waiting for him on the lawn.

As he scooped it up, he heard voices floating down to him from high above and he looked up to see silhouettes moving in an open window. A pair of men with feathers in their turbans appeared, dark as shadow puppets against the backlighting from flickering yellow candles and Ja’far realized he was looking at one of the windows of the government offices. His back to the window, the taller of the two hunched over a scroll the other held, his arms crossed before him as he pored over it with his companion.

Ja’far smiled, his body warming as he thought of the prince he served back home. In a way, this man reminded him of Kouen. Just how many late nights had he spent in the Crown Prince’s company, hard at work in his office, poring over maps and treaties as if the deadline were tomorrow instead of a week later? Ren Kouen was such a diligent man and Ja’far was proud to call himself the prince’s confidante. When Kouen had awkwardly expressed his true feelings for him, through a short poem of his own making, Ja’far had accepted wholeheartedly, returning Kouen’s affection as best he could first through patient labor and then through more physical means. It had been an easy and comfortable transition and Ja’far was happy with what their relationship had become...

But he knew one day, the time would come when Kouen had to choose a Queen and produce an heir. And no matter how much he loved the prince, this was something that was beyond Ja’far’s power to give.

He sighed, still gazing wistfully at the man at the window, noting how even his height and build were similar to Kouen’s, when he saw that the figure’s arms gleamed with gold and silver jewelry. A ceremonial sword hung at his side and when he turned his body towards the window, Ja’far caught the sight of a long purple ponytail.

“King Sinbad.”

His knees nearly buckled. Was that where these feelings came from—from the resemblance he bore from afar to Ja’far’s lover? He could have laughed with relief. After all that time spent away from the prince, was that all he was feeling? Pent-up frustration from not being touched in so long? How shameful. He shook his head and was about to make his way back to the palace when he was struck by a sudden thought. He hadn’t been out here for very long this afternoon and it was hot inside the building. Perhaps a walk to cool himself off would make for a good night’s sleep. He began to wander and eventually stopped at a well-pruned tree, its branches laden with small pink flowers that filled the garden with a heavenly scent. He breathed deeply, forgetting himself at last.

“I take it you’re feeling better, Minister?”

He whirled.

“King Sinbad!”

He bowed low, his hands clasped before him and his face hidden behind his long sleeves as the tall man emerged from the shadow of the trees into the clearing. Clad in his long white robes and shining regalia, Sinbad looked like some sort of phantom come to spirit him away in the night.

“How did you get here so fast?” he wanted to ask, but that would be tantamount to admitting he had been spying on the king earlier. Instead, heart pounding, he ventured a quiet, polite greeting. Little did he know Sinbad had been keeping an eye on him from his office window as well.

“No need for formalities. I’m just glad to see you in better health.”

“Yes. Thank you, Your Grace. Once again, I’d like to apologize for my rudeness at dinner.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Sinbad said, waving his hand casually. “Unless of course, you’ve been up to something in my garden?” A small teasing grin tugged at his lips.

“Ah, I was just getting my hat,” Ja’far mumbled, ignoring Sinbad’s flirtatious tone, “and now that I have it, I should be going.”

He was about to walk past Sinbad yet again when the man stopped him.

“Actually, Minister, I feel responsible for what happened earlier today. If I hadn’t insisted on taking you to my office, you would not have been injured. Furthermore, I robbed you of the chance to take a proper stroll through the garden by day. Please, allow me to take you around the courtyard just once tonight, as an apology.”

He laid a large hand upon Ja’far’s shoulder and at once, Ja’far felt an electric tingle shoot through him with the touch. He repressed a shudder.

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” he laughed quietly, his eyes darting about as he tried to come up with a way out. But as he laid his eyes on Sinbad, something about the man’s smile caused his thoughts to grind to a halt. Suddenly, he really couldn’t find it in him to refuse.

“But thank you. I’d appreciate it.”

He allowed Sinbad to take his hand and they walked. As they moved through the courtyard, Sinbad could hardly take his eyes off Ja’far. His uncovered hair glowed pearl-white in the moonlight and his gait was as soft and graceful as it was the day he first set foot in Mehran. He floated down the path at Sinbad’s side, a delicate creature in a soft yellow robe, green jade ornaments strung on blood-red tassels clicking against his many dark sashes like a priest’s talismans as he walked, his hat held firmly in his hand. He stopped alongside his guest as Ja’far paused under a canopy full of bright pink flowers, the color faded but not indiscernible even in the semi-darkness. His eyes flicked up. Rangoon Creepers, symbolic of Faithfulness...

“Do you like flowers, Minister?”

Ja’far turned to face him, his robes fanning out about him in the night’s breeze. His smile was gentle and he looked like a blooming flower himself.

“I suppose I do. We have a variation of these in Huang and I couldn’t help stopping to admire them. They’re quite beautiful.”

“Yes,” Sinbad murmured, his eyes never leaving Ja’far’s. “They are...”

Ja’far felt his breath hitch in his throat. For a moment, it was as if the King of Mehran was talking about _him_ and not the flowers...

_“We could use someone like you.”_

His voice echoed in Ja’far’s ears and the memory of the dream, of the meeting in the office flooded in. He stood there, rooted to the spot as Sinbad’s enchanting golden eyes locked onto his. Something passed between them, like a spark of recognition, a distant memory of a time that never was. Ja’far quickly tore his eyes away, turning toward a row of fragrant bushes lining the side of the broad walkway and giving those his full attention.

“What are these called?” he asked curiously, even though he knew full well by their scent that they were jasmine blossoms. He walked quickly away, thankful for any excuse to move away from where he was, to dissipate the atmosphere that was building around them...

“Queen of the Night.” Sinbad breathed, tenderly watching his companion as Ja’far brushed his slender fingers over the dainty white flowers. He carefully considered the man standing before him, the Parliamentary Minister of a faraway land, slight and pale in his long layered robes, a man of smiling pleasantries and hands hidden deep within his sleeves. There was something hauntingly familiar about the way he had turned and faced Sinbad, but how could that be, when they had never laid eyes upon each other before this week?

“...Have we met before?” he asked quietly.

There was a pause. Ja’far wouldn’t look at him; his gaze was trained fully on Sinbad’s shoes.

“No, I don’t believe so,” he replied at last. “The day Aladdin and I arrived in your kingdom was the day I first met you. Perhaps I remind you of another person.”

That should have been the end of it. No more probing questions and no more interaction for the night. They should return to the palace immediately, where they would settle in for a long night’s rest and forget that this night ever happened.

King Sinbad sighed, rubbing his neck. He made to continue on back to the palace when Ja’far spoke again, his voice strangely unsteady.

“Why do you ask?” 

And there it was again, that curiosity, that captivating expression in Ja’far’s eyes, as if he yearned for the same thing Sinbad did. The taller man drew forward, searching the younger man’s face for an answer.

“Because...” he said, “When I look at you, I feel like I can remember something I’ve forgotten. Something important.”

They stood facing each other, not a foot apart. Slowly, carefully, Sinbad reached out, placing his palm against Ja’far’s warm, freckled cheek, feeling that small body stiffen under his touch and watched as Ja’far’s trembling lips parted.

“Don’t,” he breathed, his dark eyes wide. “Please don’t.”

“Then tell me that you don’t feel the same way and I’ll stop,” Sinbad whispered fervently, his voice almost ragged from the effort of holding back. 

“I can’t,” Ja’far gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t _lie_ to you, I just _can’t_ —! _Please_ —”

He was coming undone and when Sinbad’s lips collided with his own, he knew he was lost forever. He threw his arms around the man’s neck, taking everything in: the way his body smelled like spices and the ocean, the natural way their lips moved against each other, as if they’d known each other for centuries, the jasmine-scented wind soaring through the trees. He felt dizzy, elated, breathless and for the first time in his life, truly _alive_.

High above them in a distant tower, his feet dangling over the edge of the window, Judal sat in his room, watching the moon and waiting for his king to come back. He bit into a peach with a soft crunch, unaware of the seven stars slowly tipping towards the horizon. A corner of the Great Coffin began to dip below the waves and with a flicker like a weak candle, the first star quietly faded away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's up early :3c

The room gave a violent lurch. Aladdin sat up abruptly in his tub, the water splashing out the sides from the sudden movement. There it was again. His head whipped from side to side as he looked around for his staff. Spotting it, he quickly clambered over the side, nearly slipping on the tiles as he grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around himself.

He’d felt this before, when they came to the throne room to meet King Sinbad and Judal and a few days ago, he thought he felt it for the second time, right after they visited the marketplace. However, he’d also been sick in bed with a stomachache that day so he could have been mistaken. It wasn’t a literal movement of the earth beneath him that he’d felt; it was more like a psychic disturbance and to him it felt even more dangerous than an earthquake. Something about this whole thing absolutely terrified him and he wanted to get to the bottom of it as quickly as possible. It was his duty as the Oracle of the Great Huang Empire.

He grabbed the staff and returned to the bathroom, holding it high above the water. The red jewel eyes glowed and there was a sound like the piercing shriek of a thousand small birds that only he could hear. The surface of the bath water began to ripple.

“Show me what’s that was!” he commanded, directing his magic into the tub.

But the tepid bathwater water yielded no answers. Only the reflection of an anxious young boy with long wet blue hair stared back at him. He gritted his teeth, got on his knees and leaned forward.

“Come on!” he cried, gripping the sides of the tub.

He leaned in until his nose was an inch from the water’s surface, but still he saw nothing. Frustrated, he released his hold and sat back on the bathroom floor, his heart pounding and his head spinning with questions. He shouldn’t have been surprised that his clairvoyance magic was so weak—he was still in training after all and to be completely truthful, he hadn’t been the most diligent student at home. Despite his title, “Oracle,” his best magical spells were fire-based. Water magic, which he needed to master in order to improve his clairvoyance spells, was still difficult for him. If only he had a teacher here, in Mehran...

“Judal!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.

Judal was six years older than him and had been acting as a country’s Magi for much longer. Plus, his best magical element was water! Maybe he could help. Aladdin jumped up in excitement but as he landed, he stepped on his towel, which came loose, and he fell to the floor with an undignified crash. Groaning and rubbing his smarting elbows, he began to think better of it. It was getting late and Judal must be tired and getting ready for bed as well. He’d have to remember to talk to him about it in the morning.

He dried himself off and dressed for bed, slipping under the covers with a sigh. It was going to be difficult for him to fall asleep tonight, especially without Big Brother Ja’far to tuck him in, but he was going to have to get used to it sooner or later. He wouldn’t be a little boy forever. He rolled over and drifted off to sleep.

***

Meanwhile, the wind in the trees began to die down and the two figures in the gardens parted at last, breathless and dazed. But then, upon realizing what they’d done, Ja’far gasped and abruptly pushed Sinbad away.

“That never happened,” he said shakily. He turned and rushed back towards the lights of the palace, his head bowed and his hands stuffed deep into the ruffled folds of his sleeves. Sinbad gave chase at once.

“What?!”

“We’re not going to talk about this ever again,” Ja’far snapped, throwing Sinbad a sharp look over his shoulder. The king scowled irritably.

“You felt it too, I know you did!” he said accusingly, grabbing the shorter man’s wrist. “I thought you said you wouldn’t lie to me?”

“Let go of me!”

Ja’far took back his arm with a sharp snap and when Sinbad saw the look in his eyes, he was instantly filled with regret.

“Please,” the white-haired man implored. “Let’s just act like this didn’t happen. It’s for the best.”

“For who?” Sinbad demanded. “For us? Or for our countries?”

Ja’far didn’t answer. He left, leaving Sinbad behind to interpret the silence for himself.

***

As soon as the first ray of morning sunlight filtered out from behind the curtains, Aladdin was instantly awake. He had to find and speak to Judal. Racing to the bathroom to get freshened up for the day, he tried to forget about the vivid nightmares that had plagued him that night. Even now, the visions were sharp and featured a world that was at once strange and familiar, one in which he and Judal were on opposing sides of a magical battle. Those red, kohl-lined eyes had shone with malice as their owner carefully aimed a small ruby wand directly at Aladdin’s heart, the corners of his lips twisting upwards in an insane smile. The boy shivered.

“Aladdin?” Ja’far’s voice was accompanied by a polite knock from the other side of the main door. Startled, Aladdin poked his head out of the bathroom and squeaked out a greeting from his spot. There was a quiet chuckle.

“Your attendants are here to get you ready. Would you mind letting them in?”

“N-not at all!” Aladdin called, scrambling for the door.

Talking to Judal would have to wait...

The rest of the day passed by rather strangely. While Ja’far’s focus had always been on Aladdin, today his concentration on the boy felt almost suffocating. Whether it was an increased strictness during his lessons or making sure the little Magi’s plate was never empty at mealtimes, his eyes appeared to be trained on his blue-haired charge at all times. Whenever Aladdin tried to sneak off to find Judal, he’d caught Ja’far’s eyes flashing dangerously, prompting him to return, meek and subdued each time, ready to continue his lessons from where he had left off. Frustrated and annoyed, he sat at the wooden desk in Ja’far’s room gnawing on the end of his feathered quill in between paragraphs, wondering what had gotten into his tutor all of a sudden. Luckily, the break he sorely needed finally walked in halfway through the afternoon in the form of King Sinbad.

“Oracle, Minister, I hope I find you well.”

“Greetings, Your Majesty,” Ja’far replied, bowing low alongside Aladdin. As he lowered his head, Aladdin couldn’t help noticing that Ja’far’s face was well hidden behind the heavy folds of his large sleeves. At least, King Sinbad couldn’t see it. The small boy, however, had a full view of Ja’far’s peculiar expression. He looked guarded, on-edge...

“Are you in the middle of lessons, Aladdin?”

“Oh!” The Magi jerked up, surprised at being addressed. “Yes, I am. Are you interested in the history of our country, King Sinbad?”

Sinbad laughed. For a moment, Aladdin wondered if he, like Prince Ren Kouen, was interested in the history of the world and if he might sit down and join in listening to the lesson. It was the sort of thing the Prince might’ve done if he were in Sinbad’s place. But Sinbad was not Kouen, even though the young Magi noticed there was a similarity in the way they carried themselves. Perhaps it was just something common to men who wielded such power. He watched as the King strode forward and bent towards Ja’far, who was just now getting to his feet.

“Minister, if I could have a word?” he asked. Ja’far stiffened.

“I apologize, Your Majesty, but we are in the middle of lessons. Perhaps another time—”

“King Sinbad!” Aladdin exclaimed, seizing his chance. Rushing forward, his hands clasped together and his bright blue eyes wide and pleading as he tried to look as cute as possible, he appealed to his host, hoping he would grant him what he needed since Ja’far would not. “If I may ask, do you know if High Priest Judal has time to meet with me today? I have something I wish to speak with him about, Magi to Magi.”

“Aladdin!!”

“The High Priest?” Sinbad repeated, blinking. “Ah, I believe he has retired to his room for the moment. He just finished looking over some documents with the officers. I am not sure if he has anything else he wants to do today but you can always go find him and ask.” 

His golden eyes flicked towards Ja’far.

“That is, if your tutor is finished with his job.” He smiled warmly, his eyes never leaving the pale young man’s freckled face. “I think it’s been a long day and Aladdin may need a break. Don’t you?”

“Please Big Brother, pleeeeeeeease?” Aladdin pleaded, turning his best puppy-dog eyes on Ja’far.

The Minister, his hands clenched tightly together within his ruffled sleeves, looked from Aladdin to Sinbad. Little did Aladdin suspect the nature of the turmoil swirling in Ja’far’s heart. All he saw was the way Ja’far’s lip twitched, as if he was chewing on the inside of his cheek and the slight furrow in his brows. But before he could say something, Sinbad stepped forward and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I take it you’re getting along well with Judal, Oracle? I saw him eating some strange fruit the other day. Gifts from the Huang Empire?”

“They’re peaches,” Aladdin answered sheepishly, shrinking away from Ja’far’s direction, sure that his tutor was wearing a look of displeasure at the little Magi’s selfish use of magic. “I love them and I thought Judal would like them as well. I um... I didn’t think there would be any here so I brought a few myself...” He swallowed. “I’m sorry, did you want some, King Sinbad?”

“Aladdin!” Ja’far exclaimed, storming forward amid Sinbad’s laughter.

“It’s okay! It’s okay,” Sinbad chuckled. “I’m not upset. In fact, I’m very happy you and our High Priest are getting along so well. It means this diplomatic mission is looking like a success. On that note, Minister, I do have things I want to talk with you about and if Aladdin wants to talk to Judal as well, I think this would be the perfect time for a break. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Y-yes, quite,” Ja’far admitted at last, his eyes downcast. “Very well, Aladdin. Why don’t you go find High Priest Judal and I’ll speak with the King.”

Something about the tone of his voice was new to Aladdin. He sounded... defeated... and scared.

“Ja’far?”

Before he could get a chance to figure it out, Ja’far had seemingly recovered and his usual polite smile was back on his face.

“Go on Aladdin, it’ll be fine,” he said, nudging the little Magi out the door. Taking one last apprehensive look back, the hesitancy as clear as day in his bright blue eyes, Aladdin departed. As soon as the edge of his embroidered robes disappeared from the door, Ja’far turned to Sinbad with a slight frown.

“What did you wish to discuss with me, Your Highness?”

“I wanted to ask you about last night,” Sinbad started but Ja’far immediately turned his back on the man with a huff.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any idea what you are talking about,” he said icily, as he bent to retrieve Aladdin’s books from the table.

“You don’t?” Sinbad asked gently, approaching slowly, his white and purple robes swirling about his feet as he walked towards the desk. “You don’t remember the way you felt when—”

“Stop it,” Ja’far insisted, moving away from the desk as fast as he could with his arms full of scrolls. He moved them to the open trunk by the foot of his bed and piled them in in a manner uncharacteristic of his usual grace. “I already said I don’t want to talk about it—”

“What are you afraid of?” Sinbad asked, following him.

“N-nothing! I just think we need to leave this alone before someone finds out.”

“That we took a walk in the garden last night? I am the king of this country. It is not a crime for me to take a walk with a guest in my own courtyard.”

“You know what I’m talking about!” Ja’far nearly yelled, whirling to face him.

BANG.

He was cornered. His back against the wall, Sinbad’s large hands planted squarely on either side of his face, he stood there, rigid and determined as the tall, purple-haired man leaned forward, preventing any escape.

“So you do acknowledge that kiss.”

“I have to now, don’t I?” Ja’far said, looking determinedly at Sinbad’s left ear.

“Anything else you want to acknowledge?”

He watched the Minister’s lower lip quiver for a fraction of a second before he answered. He still wouldn’t look Sinbad in the eye.

“No.”

“Why? What are you so afraid of?”

“It would rip our countries apart,” Ja’far said, sounding exasperated. “You are a king, why is it so hard for you to understand this?”

“Would it?” Sinbad asked. “The reason we set up this visit in the first place is so our countries can establish friendly diplomatic ties. Both Huang and Mehran have been expanding at a constant rate and neither of us wishes to go to war with the other. It seems your Magi and mine are now friends, shouldn’t we try to get along too?”

His hand settled on Ja’far’s cheek and his eyes softened.

“I don’t think I can ever forget the way we kissed last night, not for a thousand years,” he whispered. “For a moment, it was as if I’d woken up from a deep sleep, a false dream, and for that one moment, I glimpsed something I hadn’t realized I’d forgotten. I want to remember...”

He leaned in, his lips parting, but before he could get close enough for a kiss, a sharp stinging blow struck him across the face; Ja’far had slapped him. At once, the shorter man shrank into himself, covering his mouth in horror.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s alright,” Sinbad said, wiping at the thin trickle of blood that started to leak from the corner of his lip. He winced. For a pencil-pushing government worker, Ja’far was quite strong. “It was my fault for behaving inappropriately. My apologies, Chief Parliamentary Minister Ja’far. I’ve misinterpreted your actions from last night and now I have offended you further.”

If only Ja’far could see what he had. When the hit had connected, he swore he saw something familiar. An angry face, a freckled nose wrinkling in annoyance, a wave of long parchment sleeves as a slap of similar force connected with his face. Despite the other man’s annoyance, Sinbad had been laughing. It was a scene from another time, another place... another life. He sighed, closing his eyes and trying to hang onto the image but before the details could become clearer, it dissipated like smoke on the wind.

“I shall abide by your wishes and leave you be.”

With a heavy heart, he turned to leave.

“Wait.”

He felt Ja’far’s hands tugging at his robes and moved back to face the white-haired man.

“I... this doesn’t feel right,” Ja’far said quietly, “letting you leave like this. I... I confess, I do know what you felt last night and I felt it again, just now.” He looked up into Sinbad’s eyes, his gaze unwavering. 

“I want to understand this feeling better but I do not want any harm to come to our countries for it.”

“I understand,” Sinbad said, taking the man’s smaller hands in his. “I do not wish for such a thing either. But I do want to spend more time with you, to speak with you, while you are still here... If I promise to not lay a finger on you for the duration of your visit, do you think you could indulge me?” He gave Ja’far’s fingers a squeeze before letting go.

For a moment, Ja’far almost reached out to hang onto those hands, for his palms felt strangely cold without Sinbad’s warmth. Talking was fine but he could never mention the dreams that he had seen since he came here, not when the content had been so... _graphic_. He raised his sleeves to his face, to hide the blush that was coming, and bowed courteously.

“On the condition that we only talk and do nothing more,” he said, “if it pleases Your Majesty.”

Sinbad smiled. So professional, he thought. And so perfect. This would be difficult for him but he dared not disrupt this fragile truce that had been struck. Not when the relationship between their countries was at stake.

“As you wish, Minister,” he whispered.

And as Ja’far straightened up and smiled back, Sinbad’s mind traveled back to that distant impossibility: a world in which Ja’far’s beautiful smiles were for him and only him, where he was the only person to behold such radiance and be humbled by such unwavering loyalty. How painful it was that this was but a mere delusion...

He did not see the way Ja’far’s dark eyes trailed after his figure long after he had walked out the door.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! Ok, so I might have to change the rating of the fic(?) cuz there's a short scene at the beginning between Sinbad and Judal where *stuff* happens but nothing's explicit. Also if someone knows how to do proper page breaks in this format, I'd really appreciate some help. >

“You know, I stayed up for you last night.”

Sinbad looked up from his desk, the quill in his hand hovering just above a freshly unrolled document, to the doorway, where Judal casually leaned against the carved wooden frame, his bangled arms loosely crossed. His expression was serene and his smile pleasant but the expression in those blood red eyes was anything but calm.

“And the night before that _and_ the night before that.”

He strode forward, his gaze trained firmly on his king as he crossed the room, his golden bracelets jangling noisily with every footstep.

“I’m sorry, Judal,” Sinbad apologized, involuntarily scooting back just a little bit in his chair. “We’re really behind in our work and I’ve had to stay late in the office so we can catch up. Our officers are diligent but even with all of us, it’s really been a struggle.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really,” Sinbad said, trying the keep the edge out of his voice. He had no reason to be nervous; he was telling the truth. His officers and even the guards posted in the halls could verify that indeed, he’d slept at his desk for the past few nights, leaving the office only when necessary to entertain his guests or Judal. So why did he feel like there was something he had forgotten, something he _did_ have reason to feel nervous about?

“Then why,” Judal asked, his eyebrows steadily rising, “did I hear someone mention you taking a walk in the gardens a few nights ago, hmm? It sounded like you weren’t alone...”

“I wasn’t,” he said without thinking. When Judal blinked with genuine surprise, Sinbad kept going, his mind working faster than it had in ages.

“There were a few guards out there with me. It was pretty late at night and I needed some fresh air to clear my head. The stars were beautiful and I thought about taking you with me but I realized you might’ve been asleep already.”

He brought Judal’s hand to his lips and pressed a quick kiss to the Magi’s skin.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he sighed, “I haven’t been thinking of you. You must have been lonely these past few nights. I’ll make it up to you soon, okay?”

When he saw the blush crossing Judal’s cheeks, he knew the danger was past and his heart rate slowed back to a normal pace.

“You know,” he chuckled, “This work could go faster if we had even more help. If you want to spend some more time together, maybe you could come by the office tonight?”

“Don’t feel like it,” Judal declared with a pout, sliding his hand out of Sinbad’s grasp.

To Sinbad’s alarm, the teenager suddenly swung his arm back and with a wide sweep of bangles and robes, he cleared a space on the desk, swatting aside a mound of thick scrolls. The king couldn’t help the twinge of annoyance that arose when he saw the cascade of documents he’d just separated into the “done” pile clattering to the ground. Judal propped himself up on the table and sat before him, pale, lanky legs swinging freely as his eggshell colored robes loosened about his waist. He leaned forward.

“I have a better idea,” he said, his kohl-lined eyes hooded. He licked his lips.

Before Sinbad knew what hit him, he was yanked forward by the necklaces, like a dog on a jeweled leash, and suddenly his Magi was kissing him fiercely. He felt the man’s tongue slide across his lower lip and caught by surprise, he could do nothing but oblige. Perhaps Sinbad had been a little _too_ charming in his apology.

He closed his eyes and relaxed, taking in the sweet taste of an unfamiliar fruit on Judal’s tongue, allowing it to fill his senses...

Ah. Judal must have been eating those “peaches” again, the ones brought to him by Aladdin, the Huang Oracle. It was good that they had become such close friends; it meant that this alliance was as good as forged.

He slipped his hands into the opening in Judal’s robes, relishing the groan that came from the young man as his fingers slid up that slender waist. He mentally braced himself as the kisses became more feverish, more hurried, the taste of peaches becoming stronger and stronger as Judal latched onto him, his arousal so obvious that it was starting to affect Sinbad as well. He pulled the Magi in closer, wanting everything that his lover was willing to give, grinning when he heard something like a satisfied purr coming from the throat he bit into.

And yet the more he enjoyed himself with Judal, the more he became reminded of another. Perhaps it was the fruit, brought over by their foreign guests, or maybe it was the spicy scent of incense lingering on Judal’s hair and clothes from the moments when he prayed with Aladdin. Whatever it was, when Sinbad closed his eyes, he began to see Ja’far, the man whose lips he’d kissed only once on that night beneath the full moon and he began to crave kisses that weren’t as chaste as the one he’d shared with the silver-haired diplomat.

Their hands moved faster, robes were loosened, long skirts hitched up above waistlines as skin grew hotter and sweatier, each of them frantically pushing the other until they got what they wanted. Sinbad kept his eyes closed, picturing Ja’far’s freckled cheeks thoroughly flushed with passion as they had been the night their true feelings had been revealed, perhaps even more. A heavier blush would look splendid on the Minister, complemented by dark eyes clouded over with lust, those slender hands running through his hair the way Judal’s did now—

He concentrated, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to imagine Judal’s cries coming from someone else. Would Ja’far squeeze his legs together the way his lover did now? Or perhaps he would be surprisingly harsh, unyielding, fighting his own emotions every step of the way even as he fell further into giving into his own physical desires? The more he pictured it, the more Sinbad wanted it. But, it could never happen. He promised it wouldn’t.

He shuddered and sighed, Judal clinging to him as he always did at this stage, still peppering his face with kisses as Sinbad slumped back down in his chair, breathing hard.

“I think I should get back to work,” he mumbled, trying to stay awake.

“NO,” Judal growled, nipping at Sinbad’s neck. “I’m not done yet.”

“Yes, you are, Judal. Look at yourself—”

“I _said_ ,” Judal snapped, “I’m not done yet.” He punctuated his sentence with a particularly vicious bite, making Sinbad wince as he felt the bruise well up beneath his skin.

“You promised to make it up to me. So. One more time.”

***

“Prince Kouen.”

The Crown Prince of Huang looked up, turning towards the sound of the man’s voice at the door.

“Ah, come in. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you knock.”

“It’s quite alright, brother.”

He watched as Ren Koumei, second prince and younger brother, entered the room. His long warm purple robes swished about his feet as he approached, his pace as slow and lethargic as usual, his expression hovering somewhere between bored and sleep-deprived. His long red hair obscuring half of his face, he turned to look at Kouen with one heavily lidded eye and presented a set of scrolls to him, his usual large ornate fan tucked securely in his sash.

“Thank you,” Kouen murmured, taking the documents from him and unfurling them immediately.

“Keeping busy, I see?” Koumei asked.

“Of course,” Kouen replied, his eyes running quickly over the lines of text. “With the Minister gone, we need to do a bit more just to stay on top of our work. He does so much for us and so skillfully and quietly; you never notice how much he’s taken upon himself until he’s no longer here.”

“You must miss him a lot.”

Wordlessly, Kouen continued to examine the scroll, giving no sign that he’d heard his brother’s observation. Koumei stood at his side, quietly, respectfully and patiently waiting for an answer as Kouen finally placed the scroll back down on the large desk and turned to him, the polished feet of his grand wooden chair sliding softly against the carpet as he gave his answer.

“I do,” he said, wondering if Koumei could see the lump forming in his throat as he spoke.

Ja’far... A quiet, thoughtful man, his slender figure perpetually clad in long silk official’s robes, constantly wandering the halls with loads of scrolls in his arms, busy as can be. How had it come to pass that such a small, sullen creature would become their most efficient and beloved government official within the next fifteen years? Even after all this time, Kouen remembered their first meeting well...

_“What shall we do with him, My Lord?”_

The guards had brought him before Kouen, dragging him in late at night from the library where he had been caught red-handed stealing a book. He was supposed to stay with the rest of them, the other candidates for the coveted scholar program, but soon it became apparent that he wasn’t a candidate at all. He was around the same age as the others and was wearing the same type of robes but that was because he had found a spare set lying around a laundry room or somewhere and had donned them in order to pass through the palace less conspicuously. In truth, he was nothing more than a common thief, hailing from the streets instead of one of Huang’s illustrious noble families, with no relatives to even claim him, much less send him to the palace to study.

The teenaged Kouen was about to wave them away, to have the boy kicked out and the book returned to the library when something about the book caught his eye. It wasn’t an old one by any means but it was well-worn despite its thickness and weight. And then he saw the title. It was the third volume out of five and though it was a work of fiction, it was hardly a children’s book by any means.

“You can read?” Kouen had asked, mystified.

Ja’far had shaken his head no, giving no more answers until Kouen, his curiosity getting the better of him, finally sent the guards away so they could talk more privately. Ja’far told him that while he couldn’t read that well, he had been getting lessons from a merchant family who visited the country from a faraway land once a month. The wife, a tall generous woman, was like a mother to him and when Ja’far ran out of books to read, he went out to get more. This was his third visit to the palace.

Intrigued, Kouen ordered the boy to be kept under watch in a small guest room and called for the staff in charge of the program the next day. When they heard his request to admit the boy into the scholar’s program, they had balked, arguing about protocol and merit, insisting that such a street urchin had no place in the palace. And what did he hope to accomplish, taking this boy in and turning him into a scholar?

“Well then,” Kouen said, “He can work for me when he’s completed the program.”

And that was the end of the matter. Unable to find a proper argument against the idea, the King allowed it and Ja’far became a scholar and official candidate to become a palace worker. To the surprise of all except for the crown prince, Kouen’s instincts proved true. Ja’far immediately displayed a thirst for knowledge rivaling the prince’s, reading voraciously throughout the day and practicing figures well into the night. The library became his usual haunt and the maidservants would often find him in the morning passed out in a pile of scrolls, ink smudged on his nose and cheek as he slept soundly at his desk.

As time passed, he grew into a captivating individual, as graceful and polite as he was accomplished. While he did enjoy literature, he excelled in mathematics and was even occasionally called in to help the head accountant check for mistakes in their financial records. But what Kouen found particularly striking was his beauty. With his white hair and freckled skin, Ja’far could hardly be called a great beauty by contemporary Huang standards. And yet he had a certain allure, one which drew Kouen to him like a moth to a flame. By the time the prince became aware of his own feelings, it was much too late to try to change them. The young crown prince Ren Kouen had fallen head over heels for quiet, beautiful Ja’far.

Unsure of how else to express his affection, Kouen began to randomly check in on his crush, dropping by the library while he was studying or stopping him in the hallway to talk. He used his authority to schedule meetings with Ja’far, citing his promise to make Ja’far one of his own personal officers once he had completed his training in order to hide his true feelings from his family and the court. At first, no one was any the wiser, especially Ja’far, who reacted to Kouen’s clumsy attempts at flirtation with the manner of someone who had no idea they were even being courted at all. But when the prince began to spurn the women his parents sent to his bedchambers, he knew he could hide the truth no longer.

It was after a particularly vicious lecture on the importance of leaving heirs that Ja’far found him sulking in the library, trying but failing to practice his figures, his concentration utterly broken by his mother’s words.

“Are you alright, Your Majesty?”

Kouen jolted up, startled by Ja’far’s seemingly sudden appearance. The man moved as quietly as an assassin.

“Y-yes. I’m fine, thank you Ja’far.”

He felt Ja’far’s eyes scanning him and he quickly crumpled up the page and grabbed a fresh one, dipping his brush in ink as if he had an answer ready. Without thinking too hard about the problem before him, he jotted something down and moved on to the next sheet. Really, what was he thinking, spending all this time with Ja’far... Even if he were to command Ja’far to do what he wanted, would that really give him any satisfaction? Then Ja’far’s situation would be no different than that of the women his mother pushed on him, probably worse since Ja’far had no hope of becoming his empress. This was just a childhood crush but likely one that Kouen would never get over so long as he forced Ja’far to stay at his side—

“That’s wrong.”

“Huh?”

At once, Ja’far flushed, caught in his informality with the prince, but he cleared his throat and pressed on.

“Apologies, My Lord, but this is wrong.”

For a wild moment, Kouen thought Ja’far could hear his thoughts. But then Ja’far tapped a number on the page.

“This one. It should be 86,509, not 86,469.”

“Oh, right.”

His expression softening, the young white-haired scholar pulled out a chair and sat down at his lord’s side.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Prince Kouen?” he asked.

While they had spent a lot of time together recently, this must have been the first time Ja’far was so... intimate with him. Kouen looked up, his courage triggered by the gentleness of Ja’far’s tone. He hadn’t dared to call their relationship that of “friends.” But perhaps this did have a chance... He placed his hand over Ja’far’s, his pulse quickening as Ja’far raised his beautiful, dark eyes to meet Kouen’s.

“Can I kiss you?” Kouen whispered, his voice dry.

If Ja’far looked surprised, he didn’t show it. Kouen watched intently as Ja’far discreetly lowered his gaze, a single ruffled sleeve coming up to his mouth, in a gesture that Kouen had grown to love, as he silently thought to himself. Finally, with just a hint of pink tinting his ears, he nodded. As he sat there before Kouen, the young prince could hardly believe his luck. He leaned forward, his heartbeat thundering in his ears as Ja’far dropped his sleeve, closed his eyes and accepted his first kiss.

***

“I can see why. He is definitely quite the Minister,” Koumei said, interrupting Kouen’s reverie. “Well, we’ll do what we can in his absence. The country ran fine before he came of age, I’m sure it’ll run just fine with us for a few weeks. It has so far.”

Suddenly, a woman burst in, breathing hard, a star chart clutched tightly in her hand. Her long, deep blue robes were in disarray and even though she pushed her officer’s hat up on her head, it still appeared comically askew. As they turned towards her, she clasped her hands together in greeting and all but collapsed onto her knees, wheezing, a thin sheen of sweat visible on her long nose.

“Your Majesties!”

Kouen and Koumei exchanged a glance, the younger of the two silently raising his eyebrows in response. Kouen frowned, his eyebrows knitting together in a look of concern.

“Yes?”

“My deepest apologies for interrupting but we, the court astronomers we must speak with you immediately. It’s urgent!”

“Go on,” he said.

“We put together this chart,” she said, walking forward and unrolling the large sheet of parchment on the desk. As Kouen and Koumei bent towards it, she gestured to a collection of seven stars with a shaking finger. “The constellation used to look like this, the part we’ve traced with blue ink, but now--!!”

She jabbed at a point on the constellation.

“This one is missing. We thought maybe it was a weather pattern and so we observed this part of the sky for the next several days but...” She looked up, her eyes wide. “We can’t find it. The skies have been clear, the moon reasonably dim and now... We’ve traced in red ink what we’re seeing now.”

Koumei approached, half of his pensive expression hidden by the large fan in his hand.

“How is this possible?” he murmured. “Stars don’t simply go out, nor do constellations tilt to this degree after a mere week or two. Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

“Begging your pardon, Prince Koumei, but we’re certain of our findings,” the royal astronomer insisted. “We first noticed the missing star flickering strangely about a week ago and now this next star---”

She gestured at the map again.

“Is doing the same thing. It’s like it’s disappearing beyond the horizon but when we checked with our fellow astronomers in the south, they couldn’t locate it either. Something is happening and I implore you, My Lords, to look into this as soon as possible.”

Kouen followed her movements to the next star on the map. Wordlessly, he strolled to the open window and looked out into the night. There, hanging high above the horizon, was the Jade Balance... but she was right; something looked off about it. He squinted. The angle at which it hung in the sky was rather odd. If he didn’t know better, he’d say it looked like it was tipping... But what could it mean, that this particular constellation now appeared to swing below the horizon? His frown deepened.

“Call the court magicians,” he said, lifting his hand in command. “I want every astronomer and magician in the palace investigating this _immediately_.”

“Yes, Your Grace!” she replied, her hands coming together at once. She swiftly grabbed the star chart and ran out the door, sprinting for the astronomy tower.

“Koumei, you’re coming with me to the library.”

“Yes, brother.”

As the two princes hurried to the library, the elder of the two could feel his jaw tightening as he felt a strange sense of foreboding wash over him. It was probably nothing, he hoped. Maybe it was just unusual weather patterns and some sleep-deprived astronomers in need of better telescopes. And yet he felt he couldn’t leave this alone. For centuries, countless fortune-tellers had relied on the stars in order to predict the future and while their predictions could not be deemed entirely accurate, battles had been won and lost under the watchful influence of the million blinking eyes of the heavens. Only when the Magi finally appeared did their predictions become more accurate and their doubts of magic vanish for good.

As if reading his thoughts, Koumei spoke up.

“En, don’t you think we should send for Aladdin? Our court magicians may be the best in the country, but there’s only so much they can do...”

“Normally I’d agree,” Kouen replied. “But even if we send for him now, it’ll take at least a week for him to return home. Besides, Aladdin has an important diplomatic mission to fulfill. This is his first time traveling so far away from our borders and our first attempt at establishing friendly ties with the Kingdom of Mehran and its Magi. We’ll send a message to him through the magic instead. If his mission is going well, we may soon have two Magi we can consult on this matter.”

Koumei smiled.

“You will make a fine King one day, En,” he said, following in his brother’s wake as they approached the doors to the expansive royal library. Kouen breathed in, the familiar scent of the dusty books bringing back the memory of the day he had first kissed Ja’far between the shelves. Even now, he could still taste the man’s lips.

“We have Ja’far and Aladdin to thank for that,” Kouen replied quietly, picking up a nearby lamp and lighting it as Koumei did the same. For now, all they could do was research and wait patiently for the return of their Magi and Minister.

***

“I wonder what I would do if you left me.”

“Hm?”

Judal stretched lazily, his long limbs splayed out against the silk sheets as he yawned. Unable to satisfy himself with their session in the office, he’d dragged Sinbad to the royal bedchambers shortly after dinner. Sinbad turned to him, observing the way his long black hair, darker than ink, appeared to fan out over the gold-embroidered bedspread and dye everything around him in shadow.

“I said that I wonder what I would do if you didn’t want to be with me anymore,” Judal repeated. “That you didn’t want me to be your Magi or your lover.”

“Judal, what brought this on?” Sinbad laughed, trying to sound amused instead of tense.

“I had a bad dream last night,” Judal confessed, snuggling closer to Sinbad’s warmth. He lay his head against his king’s broad chest, tracing circles against the man’s tanned skin as he continued, “That’s why I came by the office today. You’ve been so busy for so long and then I had that kind of dream. I just _had_ to see you. I couldn’t bear it if you left me all alone.”

“Judal...”

Sinbad was about to pull his lover closer when the Magi let out a low cackle.

“No, I think I know what would happen,” he said, his voice sending chills down Sinbad’s spine. “I think I’d just go on a rampage, destroy everything. After all, if you can’t belong to _me_ , your _Magi_... I just don’t think I’d be able to see anything worth protecting in this miserable world anymore.”

“Judal—”

“I mean, look at Queen Scheherazade,” Judal mumbled, not sensing Sinbad’s anxiety. “She may be a Magi but she married her King, even gave him a child... I wish I could do that for you as well.”

He tilted his head up and gave Sinbad a sleepy grin.

“I’m only half-serious about all this. But just so I don’t have to consider destroying the world, _and_ you, don’t go cheating on me, okay?”


End file.
